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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218095">The Future's Owned by You and Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand'>quillsand</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Activism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anarchism, Demisexuality, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Graffiti, Labor Unions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Strike Organising, Trans Enjolras, Union Politics, Zine-making, more like a moderate burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:08:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Feuilly first met Enjolras at an anti-austerity march; Enjolras had broken through the police-lines to lead the crowd away from the backstreets and onto the main roads of the city. Feuilly remembers cheering with the rest of the protestors as Enjolras and a few others had led them to the town hall in what he later learned had been an organised effort. Enjolras had quickly appropriated the base of a statue for a stage, calling speakers out and passing a megaphone between them.</p><p>Two years later, and Feuilly has carved himself a family out of their ragtag group of anarchists and social misfits, finding friendship where he'd never expected to. When he learns that Enjolras used to have a crush on him, he’s not quite sure how to react.</p><p>***</p><p>(The Enjolras/Feuilly fic that was intended as a oneshot but somehow became a multichapter fic complete with sprinkles of union politics, a dash of anarchism, and more pining than you could possibly imagine.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enjolras/Feuilly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi AO3! I've been writing so much but have published barely any of it until today. This was something I started working on in January and it was supposed to be a one-shot exploring the concept of Enjolras having had a crush on Feuilly and Feuilly finding out about it but, well... one thing led to another, a plot formed, Les Amis morphed into a group of anarchists, and Feuilly just had to go and unionise the workplace.</p><p>All my knowledge of union politics comes from my own experience with the recent UCU strikes in the UK as well as what I've wrangled out of my dad about his time as a union representative. The timeline of organising is very compressed for Story Purposes but I hope it makes sense and that I've done it justice! I'll have more ramblings about unions etc in the notes at the bottom and please come talk to me if that's your jam :)</p><p>Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Feuilly's whole worldview changes over coffee on a Tuesday morning.</p><p>There's nothing particularly remarkable about the coffee itself; it's filter coffee because they don't own a coffee machine, and he's drinking it black because this is the second week in a row that both him and Enjolras have forgotten to pick up milk on their way home.</p><p>He wouldn't even be drinking it if he didn't need the caffeine.</p><p>Enjolras, godly creature that he is, can function perfectly well without the caffeine, and as such, nurses a cup of green tea instead. He's sat at their small kitchen table, scrolling through twitter on his phone with a furrowed brow and pressed lips.</p><p>Feuilly can't help but smile as he sips his coffee.</p><p>"We really do need to remember to pick up milk today," Feuilly says.</p><p>"Mmhm," replies Enjolras, who is generally not able to form full sentences within two hours of waking up.</p><p>"If I have to drink another coffee without milk I will literally die, Enjolras. This is a matter of life or death."</p><p>"Well, if it's a matter of life or death," Enjolras mutters. His eyes flick up to look at Feuilly for half a second, mouth curved up into an almost-grin.</p><p>Feuilly simply rolls his eyes in response and continues to sip at his coffee, grimacing and gagging for added effect when he sees that Enjolras is still watching him.</p><p>"You're very dramatic, Feuilly," Enjolras remarks in a somewhat fond tone.</p><p>Feuilly fights back the smile by covering his mouth with his coffee cup. Truth is, he's not dramatic- most of the time. There's something to be said for the way he lets his guard down around Enjolras, though, allowing himself to be silly in a way that he isn't usually.</p><p>Feuilly carved himself a family out of their ragtag group of anarchists and social misfits, and no-one encapsulates that familiarity and comfort more so than Enjolras.</p><p>As if able to hear Feuilly's thoughts, Enjolras chuckles softly and abandons his phone, leaving it face down on the table. "How was your date yesterday?" he asks, sipping at his tea and giving Feuilly his full attention.</p><p>Feuilly would be lying if he said he wasn't more than a little surprised; he hadn't expected Enjolras to remember, least of all ask about it. Then again, Enjolras has an almost freakishly good grasp of the interests, activities, and whereabouts of all of his friends at all times, so perhaps Feuilly shouldn't be surprised.</p><p>After deliberating many choice phrases, Feuilly settles on a simple "Eugh," accompanied by a vigorous shake of his head.</p><p>Enjolras' eyebrows arc in sympathy. "That bad?"</p><p>Feuilly shrugs. "Not bad, just... you know how first dates are always awkward as hell?"</p><p>"No," says Enjolras.</p><p>"Well," continues Feuilly, undeterred. "Like that but... a million times worse. We had nothing in common."</p><p>"That's a shame."</p><p>"Mmm," agrees Feuilly. Enjolras has never been great at sympathising with the romantic plights of his friends, for all that he tries. Feuilly finds it kind of endearing, to be honest. "Yeah. I don't really know why I agreed to it, you know? Baz was like 'he's totally your type' which, A) incorrect, and B) now that I think about it, honestly kind of insulting. Aside from that, I don't know, I'm just not really that interested in dating at the minute, I guess. I can't even imagine the last time I had a crush on someone."</p><p>Enjolras observes him carefully. "What about Michael?"</p><p>Oh God, Michael. Feuilly is already shaking his head. "I don't think so. I don't know if I ever actually liked him, to be honest. He was just there at a convenient time and he was a decent guy and he said all the right things, so..." he shrugs. "Maybe we're just getting to that stage where crushes aren't really a thing anymore? Romance is dead, and all that."</p><p>Enjolras' mouth twists. Feuilly can't tell if it's a grin or a grimace. "Careful, you sound like Grantaire."</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "Oh God, please no," he pauses, sipping his coffee as he thinks. It's not that he's not interested in dating, really. He struggles to articulate it to himself, never mind out loud, but he'll try, because he has an inkling that out of all their friends, Enjolras may just be the one who understands. "I think it's more just like... it's a lot harder to fall for someone without knowing their views and beliefs and what they care about, what things they think are important and what they don't, you know? Dates are fun and everything but I can't imagine genuinely being together with someone who doesn't approach things from the same place I do. And you can hardly ask someone on the first date, <em>'hey, just checking, but you agree that we should abolish all prisons, right?</em>' it'd be weird."</p><p>"I actually think that'd be an excellent icebreaker," Enjolras says instead, grinning. "Speed dating: abolition edition."</p><p>It shocks a laugh out of Feuilly. "I really wish that was a thing. Then you wouldn't have to muddle through conversation after conversation trying to figure out if they're secretly a Tory or something."</p><p>Enjolras doesn't quite snort, but it's a close thing. "As if Bahorel would set you up with a Tory."</p><p>"No, I know she wouldn't, I just mean... it's harder, when you have to start from scratch, you know?"</p><p>Enjolras hums. "I get it. I think it's kind of the same for me."</p><p>Something about that piques Feuilly's curiosity. "Have you ever dated anyone?"</p><p>Enjolras shakes his head. "Not really. Like you said, it's... I'd need that political connection before I'd entertain the idea."</p><p> "You've never found anyone who fits that? Surely there must've been someone, with all the political circles you run in."</p><p>"I-" Enjolras starts but stops again, frowning. "I've had crushes before, if that's what you're asking. But I've never dated."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>For the first time since Feuilly met him, Enjolras looks almost lost for words. He chuckles to hide it, the slightly awkward gesture making Feuilly smile. "I don't know. I suppose it's just... having a crush and being in a relationship are different, you know?"</p><p>"Not so different," Feuilly says, "a relationship is just like having a crush that you know is reciprocated."</p><p>"It's different when you know them, though." Enjolras points out. "You risk ruining things. And knowing them is sort of a prerequisite for seeing if your ideals and politics match up. I've never had a crush on someone I wasn't at least a little bit close to, and it's never been something that was worth messing up a strong friendship for."</p><p>Although Feuilly has often gone to his friends for emotional advice and relationship troubles, he's very aware that Enjolras has never quite done the same. Feuilly had- perhaps foolishly, he reflects now- assumed this meant that Enjolras simply didn't have any relationship problems of his own.</p><p>Looking across at Enjolras, Feuilly realises that he was wrong. He's not quite sure <em>why</em> he finds the idea of Enjolras having a crush so absurd- as he finds himself reminding Grantaire every so often, Enjolras is human just like the rest of them. It's not so odd to think that he should have crushes the same way anyone else does.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>"Do I know anyone you've had a crush on?" asks Feuilly.</p><p>Enjolras nods his head, smiling slightly. He sips his tea, then wraps both hands around his mug as he looks Feuilly in the eye. "You do."</p><p>"Someone in the ABC?"</p><p>Enjolras' silence speaks volumes.</p><p>"Oh my god it was, wasn't it?" At Enjolras' small nod, Feuilly grins. "Wait, is this a current crush, or an old one?"</p><p>"Old. About two years ago."</p><p>"Can I ask who? Wait, can I guess?"</p><p>After all, there are only a handful of people who regularly attend meetings, it shouldn't be that hard to puzzle out.</p><p>"Sure," says Enjolras. He's not looking at Feuilly anymore.</p><p>Feuilly takes a few seconds to deliberate. "Jehan," he says confidently. It's not so strange to think about really; Enjolras and Jehan are quite similar.</p><p>"Prouvaire?" Enjolras asks, taken aback. "No, I love Jehan, I do, but... no."</p><p>Feuilly frowns. Then who? He explains his reasoning to Enjolras: not Bahorel or Bossuet, because Enjolras isn't into girls. Combeferre is out for the same reason, as well as the fact that her and Courfeyrac are basically like family to Enjolras. Grantaire not being an option is rather self-explanatory, given the prerequisite for a political connection. Joly is in a committed relationship with Bossuet and Musichetta, and Feuilly doubts Enjolras would form a lasting attachment to someone so obviously taken. Which only leaves Jehan.</p><p>"You forgot about someone."</p><p>Feuilly frowns, pretty sure he hasn't. "This is after I'd joined, right?"</p><p>Enjolras laughs lightly, his eyes still on the table. "Yeah."</p><p>Feuilly joined the ABC two years ago- he should know everyone who had been part of the inner circle back then. The only people he hadn't included within his count were Enjolras and Feuilly himself.</p><p>Wait-</p><p>Feuilly's eyes widen and he can tell he's right just from Enjolras' expression, his eyes resting on Feuilly warily, though his smile remains in place.</p><p>"Me?"</p><p>"Yeah," Enjolras offers a small shrug. "Shortly after we first met."</p><p>"Oh, wow," Feuilly says, stunned with the knowledge. "I... huh. Why me?"</p><p>Enjolras' cheeks are darker than usual when he responds. "It's like you said, the political connection was there. Once I got to know you, it just," he shrugs again, meeting Feuilly's eyes. "I liked our conversations, and... you know... it helped that you also had the whole leather jacket, piercing, dyed hair thing going on. It was..."</p><p>What it was, Feuilly may never know, as Enjolras trails off, and frowns, as if the words he was going to use ran out of his grasp.</p><p>"Huh," Feuilly says eventually. "You had a crush on me."</p><p>Enjolras draws his mug closer to his chest. "I did."</p><p>"Wow. Sorry, I just... I never really imagined you as the crushing type, to be honest."</p><p>"Like I said, I don't get them often. And I don't particularly act on them. It's just... it's-" he shrugs helplessly, smiling down at the table instead of at Feuilly. "You were just someone I really respected. Really do respect."</p><p>"I'm-" Honoured? That sounds too condescending. Flattered? "I really respect you too," Feuilly says instead. A moment passes where he debates whether to not to ask the next question. Curiosity wins out. "Why did you never ask me out?"</p><p>Enjolras raises his eyebrows, "I don't know," he admits. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship."</p><p><em>You wouldn't have,</em> Feuilly thinks immediately. He doesn't say it out loud, just smiles at Enjolras until Enjolras smiles back at him, as if they've just shared a secret. In a way, Feuilly supposes they have.</p><p>Feuilly knows that Enjolras is a private person when it comes to himself. For someone who wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to society, he's remarkably quiet about actual matters of the heart. Even his friendships, Feuilly knows, occupy a part of him that he rarely lets people who aren't close to him see. Feuilly is grateful every time Enjolras allows him to see those small, human parts of him, and this is no different. Something like honour settles in his chest when he realises how much trust there is in the small act.</p><p>"Feel free to tell me to fuck off if I'm overstepping," he says, keeping his tone light but knowing Enjolras will hear the sincerity underneath. "I appreciate you trusting me by telling me that and I'd hate to do anything to ruin that trust."</p><p>But Enjolras just shakes his head, taking another sip of his tea. "It's fine. I told you because I don't mind you knowing." His smile drops slightly. "It doesn't make you uncomfortable, right? I would have told you before but I always worried..."</p><p>"It doesn't," Feuilly says confidently. He can't quite pinpoint what he's feeling at the minute- surprise, definitely, but other than that... It's definitely not discomfort, though, so he shakes his head to emphasise the point. "It's a little flattering though, I won't lie."</p><p>Enjolras laughs, his ease returning to him quickly. "Well thanks, I suppose."</p><p>The more Feuilly thinks about it, however, the more questions he seems to have. When did Enjolras realise he liked him? How did he realise? Did he tell anyone? When did he <em>stop</em> liking Feuilly? Has he had any crushes since then?</p><p>But he already feels the weight of this one secret he's harvested from Enjolras, so he forces the questions back and smiles instead. </p><p>They talk a little longer, about the news that morning and the agenda for the next ABC meeting, until Enjolras sighs, rising from his seat and edging past Feuilly to place his mug in the sink. "Anyway," he says, "I should get going. Can't be late for Blondeau's class twice in a row, you know how strict he is about attendance."</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "May Bossuet's law career rest in peace."</p><p>Enjolras chuckles. "See you tonight?" he asks, and Feuilly nods his agreement. Being a part-time student, Feuilly doesn't attend University except on Wednesdays and he's unlikely to see Enjolras again until the evening.</p><p>Enjolras smiles at him one last time, waving goodbye before letting himself out of their apartment.</p><p>Feuilly stares at Enjolras' vacant seat, chair still pulled out where Enjolras had left it. "Huh," he says aloud to the empty apartment.</p><p>Learning Enjolras had a crush on him is... surprising, to say the least. Feuilly's not sure entirely why- he's never considered himself to suffer from particularly low self-esteem, and he knows he's decent-looking, but even so...</p><p>No, it's not that he can't believe anyone would have a crush on him, it's just that he can't believe <em>Enjolras</em> would have a crush on him. Serious, austere, almost Spartan Enjolras.</p><p>Feuilly frowns, realising that's not quite right. Enjolras may appear cold, but he's one of the most caring people Feuilly has ever known. He loves fiercely and with passion, possessing a certain intensity of belief that Feuilly has always admired.</p><p>It's a little bit daunting, to imagine that intensity directed at him. Feuilly feels thrown off, wondering what it is about himself that had captured Enjolras' interest over anyone else. He knows how much Enjolras loves the ABC and everyone in it, knows that there are many people inside and outside of the inner circle that share Enjolras' beliefs and opinions- he could've had a crush on any one of them.</p><p>And yet Enjolras had had a crush on him, Feuilly. He can't get the idea out of his head, no matter how hard he tries.</p><p>He gets to work early, chaining his bike outside and clocking in just before nine, before taking a minute in the break room to try and rid himself of all thoughts of Enjolras having had a crush on him.</p><p>It doesn't work.</p><p>He pictures about Enjolras' bashful smirk whilst he's moving stock from one end of the warehouse to the other. He hears Enjolras' voice in his head, admitting he has a crush on Feuilly over and over again as he fills out the customer order sheets. He thinks about Enjolras' laugh, playing on repeat in his head whilst he attempts to tidy the stock cupboard.</p><p>All day long, a refrain of Enjolras, Enjolras, Enjolras, playing in loop within his brain.</p><p>Usually, Feuilly doesn't hate his job. Sure, it's not the most intellectually stimulating thing in the world, but his co-workers are nice and there's usually enough for him to do to keep his mind occupied.</p><p>Today, however, the hours seem to stretch on, and Feuilly's lunch break, when it finally comes, is cut short by his boss needing someone to cover the customer service desk whilst he takes a call. If Feuilly were feeling more confrontational he would've said no, but as it is he sighs, leaves his sandwich half-eaten and does as he's told.</p><p>Dealing with customers is Feuilly's least favourite part of the job, and one he always endeavours to avoid. Distracted as he is with thoughts of Enjolras, it seems to drag on even longer than usual.</p><p>When he finally makes it back into the warehouse it's with a considerably worse attitude- one that his co-worker Marc picks up on almost immediately.</p><p>"You look like you just stepped in shit," Marc informs him cheerily. Feuilly flips him off in response, heading past him and towards the heavy furniture stock. "Guessing you heard about the rota?"</p><p>Feuilly turns back. "No? What's up with the rota?"</p><p>Marc rolls his eyes, "bastard changed it, didn't he? Reduced hours for Marie when she asked for more just last week. I told him I couldn't do Thursdays and what does he go and do? Put me on Thursdays. I know you've got all that studying stuff, too, but you're down for the early starts on Wednesday even though he fucking knows you can't do Wednesdays."</p><p>"Fuck's sake," swears Feuilly. "Why's he changing the rota? What was wrong with it?"</p><p>"Louise quit, and apparently management won't let them hire any more staff at the minute so he's trying to fill all the gaps without. Reducing the number of people per shift as well which is just fucking stupid, if you ask me. We struggle enough with the people we have."</p><p>Enjolras would be outraged; Feuilly is also outraged, but he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again Marc is lifting boxes off the shelf and sorting through the new arrivals. "I'll talk to him," Feuilly says, "and I'll take it to the union, if we need to."</p><p>Marc smiles at him. "Knew you'd say that," he laughs, clapping Feuilly on the shoulder with a mutter of "good man," before continuing to move the boxes.</p><p>Feuilly definitely isn't talking to his boss on his own time, so he leaves ten minutes early, knocking on the blue door impatiently.</p><p>Paul opens the door only a few seconds later. "Hi Feuilly," he says, opening it so that Feuilly can step inside, "I'm glad you're here, I actually needed to speak to you."</p><p>"Is it about the rota?" Feuilly asks, off the bat. "Marc already told me. Listen, Paul, you know I can't do Wednesdays, it's the only day I need to actually be in uni. Any other day, I can probably swing it. I don't think many people are happy with the new rota."</p><p>Paul runs a hand across the thinning layer of hair on his head. "I know they're not happy. Listen, I didn't know what else to do. You know they're not letting me hire any new staff? We're short on hours and don't have enough staff to cover them unless I change the rota. If I switch the shifts up we can just about cover for being a person short, you know this place only needs about two people on shift at a time."</p><p>Feuilly doesn't know that, because it's not true. "Workplace regulations say otherwise," he points out, irritation creeping up his spine.</p><p>"I know," says Paul. "But it's only for a few weeks until we can get them to hire someone else."</p><p>"Why won't they?"</p><p>"Beats me. Saving costs, probably."</p><p>Feuilly wants to scream. He knows, realistically that it's not entirely his boss' fault; Paul is obviously doing his best with what management are giving him, but it's not enough.</p><p>"Marie was asking for more hours, why not give them to her?"</p><p>"Marie?" Paul asks, looking lost.</p><p>Feuilly suppresses the urge to sigh. "Yeah. Tall, glasses, London accent," and, because Paul still looks none the wiser, he adds, "wears a hijab."</p><p>"Ah," says Paul, nodding. "Yes, Marie. Well, I guess I could give her more..." he trails off, looking concerned.</p><p>"Marc's also not happy about his hours," Feuilly says.</p><p>Paul nods. "Yeah, he said. Look, if you can all draw up when you're free I can try and find something that works, but I can't make any promises. And we're going to have to have two people maximum at least some of the time. I know what you're gonna say and I'm more than happy for you to take this to the union, Feuilly, but I can't do any more than try and work with what we have."</p><p>They make no further progress and Feuilly leaves work in a sour mood. He tries to study afterwards, but his trip to the city library is entirely unproductive, unable to stop his thoughts from drifting. If he's not thinking about Enjolras, he's thinking about work. Then he's also thinking about Enjolras because he's thinking about what Enjolras would say, how he would react. He's thinking about his role as union representative and what he'll have to do to sort this all out.</p><p>His mind is entirely too caught up in thoughts elsewhere and not for the first time he finds himself wondering how he's supposed to concentrate on his readings and look at social problems through a distant lens when he's so close to their reality every day. It's late when he finally gives up, cycling home having worked himself into an outrage at practically everything.</p><p>Fortunately for him, there isn't a man on earth more willing to listen to his rants about injustice than Enjolras.</p><p>"He's basically asking you to make the rota yourselves. And blatantly disregarding workplace law." Enjolras summarises once Feuilly has recounted the conversation to him.</p><p>"Yeah," Feuilly says, "like I have the fucking time to do anything else on top of all the shit I'm already doing."</p><p>"Are you going to take it to the union?"</p><p>"If we have to," says Feuilly, slumping down in his seat. He should, he knows, and he will, he's just... tired. "I have a representative meeting coming up in about a month anyway, I'll bring it up there if nothing gets sorted before then. It just sucks," he sighs, letting his head fall forwards onto the table. "And it's not entirely Paul's fault, y'know? He has management pulling strings above his head and he can't really do more than we can about that. At least he's trying, I guess."</p><p>Enjolras nods and, after a minute, comes to stand by Feuilly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Feuilly brings his own hand to rest on top of Enjolras', squeezing lightly in thanks.</p><p>The comfort is easily given and Feuilly receives it just as easily, realising, not for the first time, how tactile a person Enjolras is. He may not seem like it to those who don't know him well, but Enjolras has always been free with his affections, whether that's an arm around a friend's shoulders or a hand clasped in solidarity.</p><p>Feuilly is insanely grateful for the contact and tells Enjolras so, thanking him for all his help.</p><p>"You give me too much credit," Enjolras says in response. "All I've done is sit here and listen. If there's any other way I can help, I'd be all too happy to."</p><p>Enjolras lets go of Feuilly's hand, moving to wash their now empty cups in the sink.</p><p>"Listening helps," Feuilly insists. "It helps a lot. And no, it's fine. Hopefully, it'll resolve itself within a week."</p><p>The new rota doesn't come into effect until next week, so Wednesday morning finds Feuilly at the same place as usual: in a crowded lecture theatre for his Eastern European Social Politics module. It's his favourite class, having had a fascination with international politics for as long as he can remember becoming conscious of social issues. The lectures always provide him with new ideas that he finds he can't wait to bring back and discuss with Enjolras over tea and coffee at their kitchen table.<br/>
<br/>
He finds himself thinking of Enjolras more than usual throughout the course of the lecture. He thinks of their breakfast that morning- how Enjolras had laughed more than usual for the early hour, how he’d recounted happily the success of their anti-cop graffiti last week, how he’d made Feuilly’s coffee for him and washed his mug afterwards. The lecturer- a balding white man in his mid 40's- is talking about the first partitioning of Poland, and Feuilly imagines the conversation he'll have about it with Enjolras later. He imagines the attentive way Enjolras will listen as Feuilly rants, the passion that'll be in his eyes when he echoes Feuilly's cries against injustice, the quiet contemplation he'll sit with as they delve deeper into discussion.<br/>
<br/>
Distracted as he is, he leaves the lecture with the distinct impression that he’ll have to rewatch it later in order to catch up. He makes up for his lack of focus in the lecture for staying at the library a little longer than usual that night, actually absorbed in his required reading for once. When he finally gets back to the apartment the first thing he notices is that Enjolras’ bike isn’t in the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
It's not that it's strange for Enjolras to be out, but it isn't something he'd ever do without letting Feuilly know first. Frowning slightly, Feuilly makes his way into the kitchen where there's a note on the table, hastily scribbled on the back of a bus receipt in Enjolras' messy handwriting.<br/>
<br/>
<em>Gone to Courf's, working on some (il)legal stuff for the ABC- back tomorrow! Can you feed Angela? :)<br/>
<br/>
</em>Feuilly takes a minute to let himself digest the smiley face at the end of the note, as well as the endearing fact that Enjolras had taken the time to write a note instead of simply texting as any other twenty-four year old surely would've done.<br/>
<br/>
Angela is Enjolras’ spider plant; a gift Jehan had given him after his top surgery. Feuilly finds it endlessly endearing how strictly Enjolras sticks to his watering routine for the overgrown plant. The only explanation he can come up with is that something about the anti-capitalist speech Jehan had given when handing it over must have struck deep with Enjolras. The plant sits pride of place on Enjolras’ desk (which, for once, is surprisingly tidy, only a few papers and flyers out of place), leaves dangling down the side of the wood as Feuilly sprays it with the mist bottle.<br/>
<br/>
Once Angela is fed, Feuilly sets about making himself dinner- reheated soup from last week, because it’s building up in the freezer and Feuilly can’t be bothered to cook anything- and idly watches the history channel whilst he eats. <br/>
<br/>
He doesn't spend much more time pondering over Enjolras' absence- mainly because he's tired as fuck and knows an opportunity to get an early night's sleep when he sees one, but when he doesn’t catch Enjolras in the morning either, there’s a disappointment weighing in his chest. Feuilly will have to fill him in on the lecture another time, it seems. He leaves a mug of green tea leaves on the side so that it'll be ready to brew when Enjolras returns.<br/>
<br/>
<em>Hope you had a good time at Courf's!</em> He sticks to a post-it note on a whim, a last-minute impulse that he really doesn't have time to humour but does anyway. After a moment's deliberation, he adds a smiley face, as Enjolras had done.<br/>
<br/>
Feuilly is already running late so it's with regret that he leaves his bike where it is and instead runs for the bus stop. He catches it just in time and spends the twenty-minute dreaming of ways to make public transport more accessible.</p><p>Work is much the same as the day before, except his shift overruns and leaves him too tired to attempt a stint in the library afterwards. He’d attempted to speak to Paul again, but had once been shot down with an "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Feuilly. If you can work out a rota, I'm more than happy for you to." <em>That's not my job</em>, Feuilly had wanted to bite back, but held his tongue instead. Paul isn't the enemy here, he'd reminded himself after a few deep breaths in the break room. He's just a manager completely out of his depth who's receiving no support from his higher-ups. </p><p>He spent an hour after that chasing down his co-workers, trying to put together a makeshift rota to sort out their timetable troubles. When he gets too frustrated to continue, Marie suggests just using WhatsApp chat instead, and Feuilly relents, too tired to argue otherwise.<br/>
<br/>
By the time he’s back in the university district he’s already regretting not having taken his bike to work, consequences be damned. He’s not looking where he’s going, trying to figure out how the fuck you add a contact in WhatsApp when he hears his name being called.<br/>
<br/>
Turning, Feuilly comes almost face to face with Courfeyrac, who beams brightly at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Courfeyrac, hey."</p><p>"Feuillllllly, what's up?" Courfeyrac asks, reaching out to clap a hand on Feuilly's shoulder when he gets close enough.</p><p>"I'm good," says Feuilly, smiling. It's hard not to smile at Courfeyrac. "You?"</p><p>Courfeyrac beams. "I'm grand. I was just on my way to pick up some photocopies."</p><p>"What do you need to get photocopies of?"</p><p>Courfeyrac shrugs, waving his hands about and sighing. "So much stuff, Feuilly. So much stuff. The ABC's event calendar, the flyers for the mutual aid group, the posters for the consultation, more bustcards, because Enjolras always wants more bustcards, and a copy of my environmental legislation essay because I spilt coffee over the last one. Basically everything I've been putting off doing for the past week or so."</p><p>Feuilly grins, his bad mood almost dissipating in Courfeyrac's bright presence. It's always a pleasant surprise seeing his friends outside of meeting hours, and unfortunately, it's something that doesn't happen nearly enough. Feuilly feels better about the decision to abandon his studying, the spare hours having granted him an opportunity he doesn't usually have time for. So it's without hesitation that he asks: "Need any help with that?"</p><p>Courfeyrac pauses before grinning at Feuilly, "I would be indebted to you forever," he says solemnly.</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "Teach me how to add a contact on WhatsApp and we’ll call it even."</p><p>Courfeyrac throws an arm around Feuilly’s shoulders and covers his own face with the other, "My hero!" he exclaims, causing Feuilly to snort. “It’s a deal. You have time to grab coffee after?”</p><p>Feuilly nods, and they walk a few paces in silence, falling into step with each other. Courfeyrac is a fast walker, each step containing a certain bounce that Feuilly can't help but try and imitate in order to keep up. He's suddenly reminded of Enjolras, spending the night at Courfeyrac's and immediately, the full force of his curiosity surrounding Enjolras’ crush on him is back. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have asked, but it’s Courfeyrac. If there’s one person who Enjolras would have confided in, it’ll have been Courfeyrac, Feuilly is almost certain of it.</p><p>He waits until they're around the corner before he asks. "Did you know Enjolras had a crush on me?"</p><p>Courfeyrac's eyes widen slightly and he blinks, briefly coming to a halt next to Feuilly.</p><p>"He did? When?" he asks.</p><p>Feuilly falters. If he's misjudged this, if Courfeyrac didn't know and Feuilly has just gone and spilled Enjolras' secret...</p><p>Feuilly swallows his panic and shrugs. "About two years ago? He told me about it a few days ago."</p><p>"Wait, he told you?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Ah," says Courfeyrac, and his face transforms into a smile, showing his teeth. "In that case, yeah, I knew. I didn't want to spill his secrets though, so I hope you'll forgive the duplicity."</p><p>"Forgiven," Feuilly says, laughing despite himself, the relief almost palatable. "Does anyone else know?"</p><p>"Me and Combeferre. Well, 'Ferre kinda guessed, but you know Enjolras. We didn't want to confront him about it until he brought it up on his own terms. A few of the others joked about it once or twice, but I don't think they actually thought there was any truth in it."</p><p>That's interesting. If possible, Feuilly is even more intrigued now. "What would've made them think that? I was completely surprised by it, when he told me."</p><p>"Like I said, it was joking mainly. Probably just because he was always saying how he admired you and stuff."</p><p>"But Enjolras does that with everyone."</p><p>Courfeyrac shrugs, his laugh ringing out. "Yeah, but with you it was just different. I don't know, maybe it was just because you were new to the ABC and it was easier to speculate about."</p><p>"Huh," says Feuilly eloquently.</p><p> "Do you know why he told you?" Courfeyrac asks.</p><p>" We were talking about the date I went on- you know, the one Bahorel set up? Didn't go very well, by the way, so if you see her let her know that she owes me one. Anyway, somehow it came up."</p><p>"You're cool with it?"</p><p>"Of course," says Feuilly at once. "I was just surprised, that's all. I don't think I ever considered him the type to, y'know, actually have crushes on people."<em> Let alone me</em>, he doesn't say, biting his tongue.</p><p>"It is a bit strange, I guess. Our priest of the ideal, succumbing to the baser passions of the heart?" Courfeyrac laughs, shaking his head, "Nah, he's had his fair share of embarrassingly mortal crushes. He's just quiet. He doesn't broadcast them or make a big deal out of them like a lot of people."</p><p>Feuilly can't resist the jibe when it's practically handed to him on a platter. "People like you?"</p><p>Courfeyrac winks at him. "You know it."</p><p>As they continue walking Feuilly almost trips on a crack in the pavement, and nearly collides with multiple people in an effort to keep up with Courfeyrac's quick strides. They make idle chatter along the way and once there Courfeyrac pulls out a string of memory sticks. The photocopying takes less time than Feuilly expected it to, and eventually, they emerge from the small shop with Courfeyrac's bank account £30 lighter and his bags significantly heavier. Feuilly carries one to a small coffee shop just around the corner and later assists Courfeyrac home so he doesn't have to call a taxi.</p><p>"Thanks, man," Courfeyrac says, taking the bag back from Feuilly with a groan.</p><p>"No worries," replies Feuilly easily.</p><p>"You sure you don't wanna come inside? Marius is a messy roommate but he does make an insanely good cheesecake."</p><p>"I'm good, thanks. I think me and Enjolras were gonna watch the rest of that documentary series on Netflix tonight, so I need to get back if we wanna go to bed before two am."</p><p>Courfeyrac smiles. "Ah, gotcha. Well, see you Monday then. Have fun on your date!"</p><p>Feuilly opens his mouth to reply that it's not a date, but Courfeyrac is already inside, his figure disappearing as the door swings closed.</p><p>Feuilly shakes his head and smiles, turning around and beginning the walk home. He could get the bus if he wanted to (or a taxi, if he was desperate) but he finds himself looking forward to the walk back. It's around forty minutes from Courfeyrac and Marius' apartment to his and Enjolras', but Feuilly doesn't mind. He walks and he thinks about Courfeyrac and the conversation they had in the coffee shop and of Enjolras having a crush on him.</p><p>Feuilly knows he's giving too much thought to the idea of Enjolras having a crush on him. He does. But <em>knowing</em> he's thinking about it too much and trying to <em>stop</em> thinking about it too much are different things, and he's sorely failing at the latter. If he could work out why it struck him as so remarkable, maybe he'd have a better chance. But he can't, and his conversation with Courfeyrac hadn't done much to enlighten him either.</p><p>They'd spoken a bit more, over coffee. Feuilly had been reluctant to bring up the topic again, because he doesn't want Courfeyrac getting the wrong impression, but after a while the conversation had led there naturally. Feuilly had seized the opportunity to ask his questions.</p><p>Courfeyrac doesn't know when Enjolras stopped having a crush on him. Courfeyrac doesn't think Enjolras has had a crush on anyone since. Courfeyrac didn't say why Enjolras had never acted on his crush, only looked at Feuilly with both his eyebrows raised and said: "Why are you so invested in this?"</p><p>After that, Feuilly had ceased to speak of Enjolras and instead let Courfeyrac question him about anti-trade union laws for an essay he's working on. As far as distraction tactics go, it was a pretty good one. Feuilly is always ready to rant about union politics and the unspeakable evil that is Thatcherism.</p><p>Now, without Courfeyrac there to distract him, his thoughts fly right back to Enjolras.</p><p>Feuilly's memories of Enjolras from back when they first met are hazy. He remembers meeting Enjolras, because meeting Enjolras isn't something people ever just forget. It was at an anti-austerity march; Enjolras had broken through the police-lines to lead the crowd away from the backstreets and onto the main roads of the city. Feuilly remembers cheering with the rest of the protestors as Enjolras and a few others had led them to the town hall in what he later learned had been an organised effort. Enjolras had quickly appropriated the base of a statue for a stage, and had called speakers out, passing a megaphone between them.</p><p>He remembers meeting Enjolras in a pub afterwards, introduced by a friend of a friend, and being astounded by his youth and, even if Feuilly wasn't prone to caring about these things, his beauty.</p><p>"I'm actually twenty-two," Enjolras had laughed when Feuilly asked if he was even old enough to drink.</p><p>They'd gotten to talking about politics and activism and everything in between. Feuilly learnt that Enjolras was a history graduate doing a law conversion course, but had quickly lost faith in the institutions meant to uphold justice. He'd told Feuilly all about the ABC, an anarchist group he'd helped form with some like-minded individuals, dedicated to helping the local community. The ABC had leant their support to the group organising the march that day, after it was found out that the police were trying to restrict it to the backroads. Talking to Feuilly then, he'd been passionate in the defence of peaceful protest, arguing against its restriction, even though he also expressed doubt in its effectiveness as a form of civil disobedience. They'd talked for what had felt like hours, until eventually, Enjolras had been called away. Feuilly left the encounter with an invitation to the ABC and a number scrawled on his arm.</p><p>He looks to his arm now, as if expecting to see the same nine digits from two years ago on his skin.</p><p>At the time it had seemed nothing more than a friendly gesture, another organising contact, but now Feuilly wonders: was that Enjolras flirting with him? <em>No</em>, he thinks, frowning, <em>surely not</em>. Enjolras had said that he needed a political connection with someone before he'd develop feelings for them. That must've been after Feuilly had attended a few meetings, when they'd gotten to know each other better. Was it before or after Feuilly's first protest with them? Before or after Feuilly had opened up about his background? Before or after they'd been arrested together? He doesn't know and he's not sure why he can't stop obsessing over it. </p><p>Before he knows it, he's at their door, digging through his pockets for his keys. Enjolras isn't in the front room when Feuilly enters their apartment, but he can hear typing coming from Enjolras' room, so Feuilly boils the kettle for two.</p><p>He knocks on Enjolras' door when it's boiled. The typing stops and a minute later Enjolras emerges, clad in pyjamas, reading glasses, and a messy bun.</p><p>"Hi," he says, taking a seat at the table. "When did you get back?"</p><p>"About five minutes ago," says Feuilly. "Don't worry, I haven't been here long."</p><p>He hands Enjolras his tea, and Enjolras smiles. "Thanks."</p><p>"No worries," Feuilly replies, still mixing his coffee.</p><p>"Oh!" Enjolras exclaims then, and Feuilly whips around to see him grinning. "I forgot to say. Check the fridge."</p><p>Feuilly does, hardly daring to believe his eyes when he sees the soya milk sat in pride of place on the top shelf. "Oh my God," he says, reaching for the milk and rushing back to his coffee. "I could kiss you."</p><p>Enjolras chuckles. Feuilly feels his face burn, the mortification slowly settling in, and busies himself with making his coffee to distract from the awful blunder. Did he really just say that?</p><p>And why is Enjolras so calm about it?</p><p>"How was work?" Enjolras asks, sipping his tea.</p><p>Feuilly shrugs, recovering himself as he takes a seat opposite Enjolras at the table. "It was alright. Stock room was a bit of a mess, so I spent most of the day trying to sort it out. Paul still hasn't gotten round to fixing the rota, but I think he'll let Marie cover for me. We’ve set up a WhatsApp group to try and co-ordinate our own schedule- means I might be on reduced hours but I have enough saved it shouldn't be a problem just yet. Though I might apply for some shifts in the Student's Union just in case."</p><p>Enjolras frowns but before he can say anything Feuilly digs two packets of chocolate bourbons out of his bag and rolls them across the table. "But on the bright side! These are like, two days out of date, so they let me take them. Your favourite."</p><p>Enjolras smiles, taking his cue to drop the subject of Feuilly's work troubles. "You're a god amongst men, Feuilly."</p><p>Feuilly brushes off the compliment the best he can whilst feeling his face heat up. "How was your night with Courf? I ran into him earlier, by the way," he says, once Enjolras has relocated to the couch and pulled Netflix up on his laptop.</p><p>"It was good," Enjolras replies, smiling when Feuilly sits next to him on the couch. "We're in contact with a group who want to target the big billboards in town. You know the ones near Queen's Street?" Feuilly nods. "There's a lot of gentrification going on there, so it's the perfect spot for some ad-busting. It'll be on the agenda next meeting, I expect. We did some logistics for the mutual aid group as well, but it's taking longer than I'd like to sort out. Courfeyrac says we just need to be patient but..." he sighs, shrugging slightly. "How come you ran into him, anyway? I thought you were at the library."</p><p>"I couldn't be bothered to do any studying after work and I ran into him on my way back, helped him print out a bunch of shit. I saw the flyers for the mutual aid group, actually. They look great."</p><p>Enjolras smiles. "That's good to hear. Though I don't think I can take much of the credit; you and Jehan did most of it."</p><p>Feuilly waves a hand dismissively. "We only drew what you asked us to. You're getting way better at design, you know."</p><p>Enjolras looks pleased, ducking his head at the praise. Feuilly’s heart does a funny sort of swoop within his chest.<br/>
<br/>
That’s new.<br/>
<br/>
They watch the documentary series with chocolate biscuits and Feuilly lets himself settle into it, content in a way that he's been lacking lately. Here, he doesn't feel stressed out from work or his studies, with Enjolras next to him, his presence comforting even as he falls asleep on Feuilly's shoulder halfway into the series. Taking care not to jostle him, Feuilly hits pause on the laptop and tries to figure out what to do next.</p><p>He could wake Enjolras up and they could both go to bed, which is probably the more sensible option. He could let Enjolras sleep and just wait until he wakes up on his own, which, whilst impractical, is much more appealing. Mostly because he wouldn't have to move, and also because Feuilly is almost asleep himself, lulled into a sense of absolute safety with Enjolras' curls just barely brushing his cheek, Enjolras' arm resting against his hip, Enjolras' thigh pressed against his own.<br/>
<br/>
Feuilly doesn't know how long the two of them sit like that, Enjolras' light breaths the only sound in the room. Feuilly's own head is resting against the back of the sofa and he's on the verge of dropping off to sleep when Enjolras' phone begins to ring. Feuilly sits up groggily and nudges Enjolras until he sleepily blinks himself awake.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" says Enjolras, looking lost until his eyes focus on Feuilly. "Oh. Did I fall asleep?"</p><p>"You did," Feuilly informs him. "Don't worry, I paused it, you haven't missed anything. Your phone's ringing."</p><p>Enjolras' eyes widen as he, too, hears the ringing, and he wriggles until he manages to get his phone from where it had fallen behind one of the sofa cushions.</p><p>"Hello?" he answers, getting up and stretching his legs.</p><p>Feuilly sighs as Enjolras walks about the kitchen, talking to someone in quiet, sleepy undertones. He tries to settle back into the content state he was in before Enjolras' phone went off but finds himself unable to without Enjolras' warmth besides him.</p><p>He hears Enjolras saying goodbye from the kitchen and makes the effort to stand up.</p><p>"Marius," Enjolras explains as Feuilly enters the kitchen. "Wanted to know what he missed in class today."</p><p>Feuilly rolls his eyes. "At-" he checks the time on his phone, "-half-past one in the morning?"</p><p>Enjolras shrugs, and they settle into silence. After a beat, Enjolras walks up next to Feuilly and rests his head on Feuilly's shoulder. Inexplicably, Feuilly's heart speeds up again.</p><p>"Sory for falling asleep," Enjolras says.</p><p>"Don't worry, we can finish the rest another time."</p><p>"Mmm," he yawns. "Okay, yeah, I should go to bed. Goodnight, Feuilly."</p><p>"Night, Enj." Feuilly replies, bringing a hand to his shoulder once Enjolras has left the room.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>Feuilly spends a restless night staring up at his bedroom ceiling and thinking about how much easier it had been to fall asleep with Enjolras next to him.</p><p>He again wonders why Enjolras had never asked him out and then scowls at himself in his empty room for his unhelpful line of thinking. Enjolras had said he didn't want to ruin their friendship, but Feuilly can't imagine a world in which he'd stop being friends with Enjolras over a crush.</p><p>It's with a start that he realises, had Enjolras asked him out two years ago, he probably would've said yes.</p><p>It's probably nothing, but at the same time Feuilly is terrified because... what if it is something? His friendship with Enjolras (and, by extension, the entire ABC) is probably one of the things he's most grateful for in life. He doesn't want to fuck that up.</p><p>Rationally, he knows this sudden obsession is probably a result of knowing that Enjolras once had a crush on him and nothing else. It's only natural, right, to wonder what could've been?</p><p>If Enjolras had asked him out, if Feuilly had said yes... would they have gone on dates? Would they still be together? Would they still be <em>living</em> together? Would they fight? Would Enjolras have kissed him? Would they have had sex?</p><p>As soon as the thought crosses his mind, Feuilly attempts to bat it away. He shouldn't be thinking about Enjolras like that. It's wrong, and Feuilly respects Enjolras too much to think about him like that, and it's wrong.</p><p>Then Feuilly wonders if Enjolras has ever thought about <em>him</em> like that and has to hide his face in his pillow in an effort to stop thinking about it. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work, only leaving Feuilly more frustrated and wondering why his mind is torturing him with images of the two of them together, heads bent close, hands intertwined, bodies moving as one.<br/>
<br/>
Since the pillow didn’t work, Feuilly shakes his head in an effort to clear it. Enjolras is his best friend, and his roommate, and an activist whom Feuilly admires immeasurably. Enjolras had never looked down on Feuilly because of his background, but he’d never worshipped him because of it either. He understood, as much as it was possible for him to, and he’d always been happy to listen and learn what he didn’t know. Before Enjolras, Feuilly couldn’t imagine ever trusting another person enough to share a living space with them, years of foster-care having left a bad taste in his mouth when it came to having his boundaries respected. But Enjolras is different somehow; Feuilly has always felt comfortable around him. When he’d approached Feuilly about sharing a flat back in April, just after Feuilly decided to return to his degree, Feuilly had found it easy to say yes.<br/>
<br/>
Since then Enjolras has been endlessly accommodating, appreciating Feuilly’s need for space and needing just as much of it himself. They work well together, as friends and as roommates and as activists.<br/>
<br/>
Enjolras had had a crush on him when they’d first met- so what? He doesn’t anymore. There’s no chance of anything happening between them, and even if there was, Feuilly reminds himself, having a crush doesn’t necessarily mean wanting a relationship. Enjolras had even said something to that effect earlier, about prioritising strong friendships over romance of any sort.<br/>
<br/>
Feuilly holds Enjolras in the highest regard possible and respects him too much to jeopardise their relationship with his short-sightedness.<br/>
<br/>
That should be that.<br/>
<br/>
To Feuilly's great frustration, it's not. He'd be doing their relationship a disservice if he were to assume it was built on mutual respect and mutual respect alone. Enjolras possesses a lot of qualities that Feuilly admires, but just as important are the moments of utter normality; those soft, unguarded moments only few are privy to. Like when Enjolras frowns at his phone at their coffee table, grumpy as a result of his self-imposed early routines, or when he remembers that he needs to water Angela and abandons whatever he’s working on to do it, or when he laughs at something Feuily’s said with that full-bellied laugh that Feuilly has come to treasure.<br/>
<br/>
Really, Feuilly supposes, Enjolras would be an easy person to fall in love with.<br/>
<br/>
He frowns in the darkness, turning on his side and closing his eyes as if he can keep out the thoughts that way.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't have a crush on Enjolras, he's just confused.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t have a crush on Enjolras.<br/>
<br/>
He <em>doesn’t</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Feuilly's role as union representative for his workplace basically means that he's heavily involved with labour organising in the form of being a sort of go-between for the people in the workplace and the union leadership. It's a voluntary position and he does it on top of his position at the workplace itself.<br/>2. As for which company Feuilly works for, I've kept it deliberately vague because there are so many evil ones to choose from and I wanted more leeway to do what I want with it in terms of how the story progresses. It's essentially a small fictional distribution centre of some sort, but if you wanna imagine an Amazon-like warehouse, go ahead.<br/>3. We all know Poland is Feuilly's favourite cause in the brick and this wasn't gonna be a fic where I didn't reference that <i>at least</i> once. Subtle reference to canon is subtle.<br/>4. Did Enjolras name his plant Angela after Angela Davis? Yes.<br/>5. The reason it's just the ABC here and not Les Amis de l'ABC is because there was a book written in 1929 called  'The ABC of Anarchism' by a guy called Alexander Berkman which sort of outlines anarchism as a philosophy and I liked the reference to it in the group name. Obviously it also remains a pun on 'abaisse'.<br/>6. Mutual Aid groups have become more mainstream due to COVID-19 (and if there's one upside to this whole thing, I'd say it's that) but the concept/principle has existed for a while, especially in anarchist circles! I'd highly recommend getting involved if there's a mutual aid group in your area (or start one, as Enjolras is trying to do!)<br/>7. The protest mentioned where Feuilly and Enjolras met is based on the anti-austerity marches that occurred in the UK in April 2016 after the Conservative government made further cuts to public services, most notably to the NHS. (This puts the timeline in which this fic occurs at late 2018-early 2019, mainly because I didn't want to have to deal with the recent election stuff or corona stuff.)</p><p>Thanks for reading! I very desperately would love to know what you thought, especially since it became something a lot more ambitious than originally intended! Comments would literally mean the world. I'm imaging 3 more chapters after this, and possibly an epilogue :) Most of it's written up so I hope to update weekly! </p><p>If you wanna yell about Les Mis with me my Tumblr is @thelawsofdaylight!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Feuilly had almost forgotten about his feelings for Enjolras in all the chaos of the past few weeks (because Feuilly has come to terms with it now, there are definitely Feelings there, even if he's not quite sure what kind.) Amidst trying to keep on top of his classes, a frantic work schedule, and desperate attempts to organise his workplace, his feelings have been pushed to the back of his mind. But seeing Enjolras' smile brings them rushing to the forefront again, even as he does all he can to quell them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! So, I was supposed to upload this yesterday but I got a little bit sidetracked by a killer headache. So this is a day late but I promise I'm still sticking to the schedule I made for myself! A massive thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter, I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying this fic! </p><p>This chapter has a lot more union politics and union history in it! Also, a lot more of the amis should start to creep in from here on out :) Again, the timeline of organising is compressed a little bit for plot purposes but I'm trying my best to portray a somewhat realistic scenario in regards to how everything works re: unions and strike action in particular. Let me know if there's anything you think is outrageously unrealistic and I'll do my best to rectify it!</p><p>Thanks for reading, and as always, there's more notes at the bottom! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few weeks later, Feuilly is sat in the backroom of the Musain, nursing a single pint of cider and staring in quiet contemplation at the table where Enjolras sits talking to Bahorel. The meeting ended a few minutes ago and Feuilly had retreated to one of the tables in the back almost immediately. He knows Enjolras likes to stay even when they've officially ended meetings, and he won't begrudge him it, but Feuilly is unbelievably tired; he knows he wouldn't' be very good conversation right now. He came straight from work- a double shift, because no one else was available to cover it, and whilst he loves ABC meetings and the plans and ideas they talk about here, tonight he feels far less invigorated than usual.</p><p>He's tracing the condensation rings on the table and thinking about going into work tomorrow when he's approached by Joly, Bossuet, and Grantaire.</p><p>"You look like you could do with some cheering up," says Joly, taking the seat opposite Feuilly. Grantaire and Bossuet follow suit, the latter going to retrieve a chair from the next table over.</p><p>"This is <em>my</em> job, Feuilly," complains Grantaire, "if you also start being all sad and brooding in the back corner there truly will be no use for me anymore and I'll have to leave and find another group of radical idealists willing to suffer in my company."</p><p>"As if they'd have you," snorts Bossuet, prompting an affronted look from Grantaire. Bossuet laughs a second later, throwing her arm around Grantaire's shoulders as if to make up for the insult, and Grantaire lets himself be subject to it, though his pout remains in place.</p><p>Joly settles them both with an amused look before turning back to Feuilly. "Seriously, is everything okay?" he asks.</p><p>Feuilly fights the urge to smile in the antics of his friends. "I'm fine," he tells Joly, because he is. He's not in a bad mood exactly, just stressed. "I just have a lot on my mind."</p><p>Joly nods. "Work?"</p><p>Feuilly had given a brief summary of his situation to the group earlier, prompted by Enjolras. The wealth of support he'd received from everyone had been uplifting, but it doesn't mean he has less to do because of it.</p><p>The ever-changing schedule is messing everyone up and the air in the warehouse is practically composed of frustration. In the continued absence of an official rota, Feuilly has somehow become the designated person for co-ordinating and arranging shifts, and he's getting sick of it. He'd missed his first ABC meeting in a year last week because he'd had to work the Monday evening shift. It's been almost a month since Louise quit and three weeks since the chaotic shifts started. Two weeks ago payroll messed up everyone's wages, prompting an already-frantic Feuilly to try and backdate the hours everyone's been working so they can rectify it. Enjolras had found him almost crying in their kitchen after that one, panicking about rent payments and thinking about his co-workers who aren't as financially secure as him.</p><p>He has a representative meeting in a week and he can't stop thinking about what he'll say there, the case he'll make. Enjolras has been amazingly supportive amidst all of Feuilly's stress, and the ABC as well.</p><p>"Yeah," Feuilly sighs, forcing his attention back to Joly. "Work."</p><p>"Well," says Bossuet cheerily, her arm still around a now squirming Grantaire. "On the bright side, at least you're doing the hard work of putting the syndicalism into our anarcho-syndicalism. Without that I'm not sure we could continue to use the label. We thank you, Feuilly."</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "Just like Combeferre puts the feminism in anarcho-feminism?"</p><p>"Exactly! And how Grantaire puts the... Grantaire, what do you put in again?"</p><p>Grantaire huffs, dislodging Bossuet's arm. "I'm not an anarchist of any sort, Lesgles. Leave me alone."</p><p>"Grantaire puts the friendship in our hearts," proclaims Joly generously. Grantaire rolls his eyes but reaches over and places a kiss against Joly's cheek nevertheless. Joly wipes his face frantically afterwards and Feuilly can't help but laugh along with Bossuet and Grantaire, even though he suspects Joly's reaction is mostly for show.</p><p>"I'm really surprised no one took the opportunity to make an innuendo there," says Feuilly once he's recovered.</p><p>He's met by three delighted gazes just in time to realise his mistake. He spends the next twenty minutes in stitches, almost brought to tears at the hilarious wit of his friends. It takes his mind off of everything for a moment, a nice change of pace from the constant work-related stress. When he catches a glimpse of Enjolras putting his jacket on at the other end of the room, it's almost with reluctance that he goes to leave. </p><p>"You look happy," Enjolras says as they walk home.</p><p>"I am," Feuilly says honestly. "I love the ABC. You guys are like my family."</p><p>Enjolras doesn't reply, but his small smile speaks volumes, and he links arms with Feuilly for the rest of the walk home.</p><p>Things haven't got less confusing since Enjolras' confession a few weeks ago. If anything, Feuilly is even more confused. He's hyper-aware of Enjolras' every move and inexplicably guilty about it. He can't work out if he's only feeling this way out of some weird response to learning Enjolras once had a crush on him, or if it's something else. And if it is something else, Feuilly's not sure he's ready to examine what else it could be. He's usually a decisive person, but something about the situation is stopping him from being bold and just speaking to Enjolras about it all.</p><p>It's like Enjolras admitting he had a crush on Feuilly has fundamentally changed Feuilly's perception of their relationship. He'd never considered Enjolras as someone he'd date before (mainly because he'd never considered Enjolras as someone who would date, period). Now that Feuilly knows, he can't stop his thoughts from snaking off in that direction every time he and Enjolras spend time together.</p><p>Which happens to be fairly regularly, on account of the fact that they share an apartment.</p><p>Every smile and every laugh he coaxes out of Enjolras makes his chest glow with pride and he feels himself relaxing into their shared presence even more than usual. It's domestic in a way that Feuilly never thought he'd particularly desired, but has come to cherish. Their quiet mornings quickly become a staple of his day and a highlight of his working week. He finds himself getting up earlier than ever before, eagerly awaiting the dawn so he can make tea for Enjolras and listen to him rant about all the outrageous things on his Twitter feed.</p><p>When he wakes up to the smell of pancakes the morning after one of his worst shifts ever, he has to fight down a wave of affection so strong he feels it could knock him right back asleep. He takes a moment to bury his face in the pillow, as if that will rid him of the ridiculous smile that's crept it's way onto his face.</p><p>With that business finished, Feuilly takes a minute to make his hair look halfway presentable (he never used to bother) before pushing open his bedroom door and making his way into the kitchen.</p><p>"Morning," he says to Enjolras, who jumps about a foot into the air before turning towards Feuilly.</p><p>"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me!" he exclaims, hand still resting on his heart despite the unrestrained grin on his face.</p><p>Feuilly laughs, pretending he doesn't want to cross the distance between them, take Enjolras' face between his two hands, and kiss him senseless. He's been struggling with that urge quite a lot recently.</p><p>But it's fine, he has it under control.</p><p>It's fine.</p><p>"Pancakes?" asks Feuilly, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>Enjolras turns back to the stove with an expression of concentration. "Courf gave me the recipe, so I thought I'd try. I'm not very good at flipping them yet, but..." he shrugs, a little self-consciously. "The ones I've made so far have tasted fine. There's some in the microwave, by the way."</p><p>Feuilly walks over to the microwave and retrieves the pancakes. They're mis-shapen, not quite circular, and some are cooked more unevenly than others. But- "they look perfect," he says, and Enjolras smiles beautifully.</p><p>"Sauce is on the table," Enjolras says, and Feuilly takes a seat, helping himself to a generous serving of maple syrup.</p><p>Feuilly knows it's practically impossible to mess up what is essentially a blended mixture of oats, bananas, and soya milk, but still- the pancakes are delicious. He tells Enjolras so and gets another bright smile in response.</p><p>"Want me to help you flip them?" he asks once he's finished.</p><p>Enjolras, who is currently halfway through the rest of the batter, turns around and nods his head. "If you'd like to."</p><p>Feuilly stands beside Enjolras and takes the pan from him, moving it back and forth a few times as the batter begins to bind together. "Watch," he tells Enjolras, as he flicks his wrist upwards with just enough force to flip the pancake, catching it again afterwards. "Your go."</p><p>Enjolras still looks doubtful when he takes the pan back from Feuilly and sure enough, when he goes to flip the pancake, it goes spinning high into the air and falls flat on the ground.</p><p>"I told you I couldn't do it," says Enjolras, a little indignantly, as Feuilly collapses into laughter.</p><p>"No, no, you were almost there. Don't worry about it. Let's try again."</p><p>Enjolras huffs, but measures out another spoonful of pancake mixture into the pan. This time, when he goes to flip it, Feuilly wraps his hand around Enjolras' wrist, moving slightly behind him so there arms are lined up alongside each other. This close, Feuilly can smell the shampoo in Enjolras' freshly washed hair, and he has to move his head back so that he's not tickled by the wild curls there.</p><p>Enjolras laughs in Feuilly's grip and Feuilly can feel the vibrations of it down his arms and in his chest. He swallows. "Okay, so just be a little gentler this time. Ready?"</p><p>Enjolras nods. Feuilly guides his movements and together they flip the pancake into the air, just managing to catch it afterwards. "See?" Feuilly says, releasing his hold on Enjolras' wrist and stepping backwards. "Easy."</p><p>Enjolras replaces the pan on the stove and turns to Feuilly with a huge grin. "Easy for you," he says, nudging Feuilly in the ribs with his elbow. "You'll have to be my dedicated pancake-flipper from now on. I'll cook them and call you when they need to be flipped."</p><p>Feuilly turns away to hide the besotted smile on his face as soon as Enjolras redirects his attention to the pancakes.</p><p>Enjolras doesn't need to say it, but Feuilly knows that the pancakes are for him. Following the meeting on Monday, Feuilly had been in high spirits through his Tuesday shift at the warehouse, his lectures on Wednesday, and even his shifts at the Student's Union. Yesterday, however, they'd finally hit a point where they were understaffed with no extra help available. Despite Paul's claims that they'd be fine as long as the customer service line wasn't busy, Feuilly and Marie had been running around all day, working through lunch and staying behind an extra couple of hours just to complete the order list. Enjolras hadn't been home when Feuilly finally got back, but he'd picked up when Feuilly called his phone and listened to Feuilly vent for what had to have been at least half an hour. </p><p>He looks across at Enjolras and feels such a rush of gratitude that he's not entirely sure how to put it into words. Thankfully, Enjolras' expression tells him he doesn't need to. They eat in silence, the only sound the scraping of their forks against plates. The whole time Feuilly watches Enjolras and tries to ignore the fact that his heart is beating faster than usual.</p><p>He tries to put it out of his mind as he cycles to work; the October rain makes his hair wet and gets in his eyes, which doesn't really help matters. Despite ten minutes spent drying off near the radiator before he clocked in, his shift that day passes quickly. Feuilly had planned to talk to Paul once he's finished, and he leaves five minutes early, barely waiting for the 'come in,' that follows his knock on the door.</p><p>"This isn't my job," he says as soon as he's sat down, showing Paul the WhatsApp group they've been using to communicate as well as printed copies of Feuilly's own spreadsheets for the past month worth of shifts. "I'm not being reimbursed for the time and effort I've put in here and I don't have the time to spend doing it otherwise. Isn't this something that can be passed on to HR?"</p><p>"I've tried," Paul sighs, running a hand over his face with one hand as he looks through Feuilly's papers with the other. "They're overloaded with work from other branches. I asked the first day they told us we can't hire more staff, they said they'd get back to me."</p><p>"I can't keep doing this," Feuilly says, and if he sounds less composed than usual, well, fuck it. It's not like Paul can afford to fire him. </p><p>Paul looks stricken at Feuilly's tone. "I know," he says.</p><p>Feuilly is quiet until another thought occurs to him. "They need to do something; they've already messed up our pay once and now that our rota has changed they don't know how many hours we've worked because somehow that responsibility has fallen on me."</p><p>"Give me the sheets," Paul instructs, and Feuilly does, thankful for his foresight to use the university library to print them out. "I'll forward them on. Are they the same every week?"</p><p>Feuilly has to bite down on another snappy retort at that. He takes a deep breath. "Kind of. Mostly the same but there are a lot of times people have swapped shifts or done a shift at a time one week that they couldn't do another week."</p><p>"Right," Paul says, frowning. "Well, I'll pass them on."</p><p>"Great," says Feuilly, not quite through his teeth, but close, "and what do we do about the rota going forward? We can't have another day like yesterday, Paul. It was lucky me and Marie could both stay the overtime."</p><p>"I'll talk to HR again," says Paul, and nods, as if that's that. Feuilly waits, but when nothing more is forthcoming he sighs and leaves Paul's office, exchanging a customary 'have a nice weekend' with the other man before barely restraining himself from slamming the door.</p><p>He's in a mood and he knows it, and when he snaps at Enjolras later that night (over typing too loudly, of all things,) he's profusely apologising before he can stop himself.</p><p>Enjolras holds up a hand to Feuilly's apology, a hand which then settles comfortingly on his shoulder. "It's fine. I can try and be quieter. I know you've had a long day."</p><p>"Long week," Feuilly mumbles, bringing his hands up to his face. "God, I'm sorry. You don't have to be quieter, you're not... I'm just really stressed out."</p><p>Enjolras hums in agreement and once again his hand moves so rub Feuilly's upper back. Feuilly tips his head forward at the way Enjolras' fingers brush the hairs at the nape of his neck.</p><p>"Is there anything I can do?" Enjolras asks.</p><p>Feuilly begins to shake his head but then stops. "Could you read through an e-mail I've drafted?" he asks, craning his head back to meet Enjoras' eyes.</p><p>"Of course," Enjolras says, and move to sit next to Feuilly on the couch. Feuilly shows him the e-mail to the union, and Enjolras reads it over, occasionally pointing out a sentence or phrase and helping Feuilly re-word it.</p><p>"You could CC in Paul and HR," Enjolras suggests.</p><p>"Good idea."</p><p>He does so, then hits send before he can talk himself out of it. Once that's done he groans, arching his back against the couch and closing his eyes. He hears Enjolras' soft laugh from beside him and opens his eyes to glare, but before he can do so, Enjolras pulls on his shoulder and manoeuvres Feuilly until he's lying down, his head in Enjolras' lap.</p><p>"This is comfy," says Feuilly, trying to ignore the way his heart has started beating erratically. It's friendly, Feuilly tells himself. It's a friendly gesture. Feuilly has seen Enjolras and Courfeyrac sit like this thousands of times before. It's nothing.</p><p>Enjolras slowly tempts the anger out of his system and after an undetermined time has passed, Feuilly sits up, rolling his neck. "Thanks," he says quietly.</p><p>Enjolras' hands drop to his sides. "Anytime."</p><p>He smiles, and oh god, Feuilly is <em>so</em> fucked.</p><p>Although Enjolras' confession might have been the trigger, Feuilly can't seem to stop himself from latching on to his friend's every move, every word, every interaction they share. Which is starting to worry him, on account of how often he finds himself staring at Enjolras, thinking about Enjolras, imagining Enjolras' response to things, when Feuilly knows that should reasonably be the least of his worries.</p><p>Feuilly had hoped that, with a little distance and a little time spent analysing the memory of Enjolras admitting he had a crush on Feuilly, things would return to normal.</p><p>It soon becomes clear that that isn't going to be the case. If anything Feuilly has become even more obsessed with their past friendship ever since Enjolras told him about his crush. With the few spare hours he has, he finds himself stalking their friends Facebook profiles for old pictures of their group, for old pictures of him and Enjolras. He looks through his old diary entries, Instagram posts, Grantaire's art blog, Jehan's published poems- and nothing.</p><p>He ends up going to Jehan directly on Saturday evening. Whilst Jehan officially works as a copywriter, his time is far more often spent working on various creative endeavours. Feuilly has been involved in one such project for a while now, along with occasional help from other members of the ABC. The zine is only in its third issue but it's already had a popular reception and he knows Combeferre is looking into expanding their distribution already.</p><p>Whilst Feuilly is mainly only there to add the occasional illustration, he's somehow come to be regarded as co-coordinator, with Jehan taking care of most of the content.</p><p>Sat in Jehan's tiny flatshare cutting up little pieces of newspaper headings and various magazines is one of Feuilly's more pleasant responsibilities. It's Saturday evening because that was the only timeFeuilly had free, but Jehan makes his own schedule and had been all too happy to accommodate him. Jehan is always great company and Feuilly enjoys the time they spend together, his other worries seeming to drift away in the quiet ambience of the apartment. Here, he doesn't have to worry about the stress that working at the warehouse is causing him, and he's immensely grateful for the reprieve.</p><p>They're about half an hour into their respective tasks when Feuilly pauses, a picture having caught his eye. It's taken from a newspaper, a faded print of a protestor staring defiantly up at a police officer. Even depicted in black and white with a mask covering most of his face, Enjolras is a sight to behold.</p><p>"Hey, when's this from?" he asks Jehan, leaning across to show him the clipping.</p><p>Jehan pops the lid of his pen into his mouth and moves closer. His eyebrows furrow as he looks at the clipping, humming softly. "I think it's the tuition fees march in... 2010? 2011? He would've been about seventeen, I think."</p><p>Way before Feuilly knew Enjolras, then. He examines the picture more closely for a few minutes before setting it aside. "I think this should go on the page about police misconduct," he says.</p><p>Jehan nods. "Oh, definitely. He does look rather striking there, doesn't he?"</p><p>Feuilly nods, asking before he can stop himself, "do you have any more photos of the ABC? From around the time when I joined?"</p><p>"To put in the zines?" Jehan asks. "I'm not sure it'd be a good idea to publicise our faces too much, but I suppose that's something we can bring up at the next meeting."</p><p>"Not for the zines. I've just been feeling nostalgic, lately."</p><p>That seems to do the trick, for Jehan hums again, uncrossing his legs and getting up, presumably to retrieve the photos. He comes back with a small box full of photos, newspaper clippings, ticket stubs, and brightly coloured wristbands. It's unsurprisingly chaotic, for Jehan, and Feuilly smiles.</p><p>"I'm terrible at properly sorting them," Jehan admits, a tad bashfully, "plus I kind of like how unordered it is, I'll be looking through it and find random little pieces of the past that I'd completely forgotten about."</p><p>Feuilly carefully looks through the box, zine put to the side for the time being. Jehan is all too happy to assist him, pulling out photos at random and telling Feuilly the story behind any that happened before he knew them all.</p><p>"Oh," Jehan says, after they've been looking at photos for about ten minutes or so, "this one's cute."</p><p>Feuilly looks up from a photo of Bahorel and Joly at a pride festival and cranes his neck over Jehan's shoulder. He sees his own face staring up at him from the photo, holding a smoke grenade high above a crowd. Next to him, Enjolras smiles, though his smile isn't directed at the camera but at Feuilly himself.</p><p>Feuilly remembers the protest, the first one he'd been involved in as a member of the ABC. He doesn't remember Enjolras looking at him like that, but then again, he probably wasn't exactly watching Enjolras' expressions as closely as he is now.</p><p>"We all used to joke that he had a crush on you, y'know," Jehan says then, turning the photo over in his hands and chuckling slightly.</p><p>Feuilly almost tells Jehan, then. He stops himself at the last minute, because it's not his secret to tell, and anyway, what difference could it possibly make? Just the knowledge that even Jehan had- if not known then at least suspected- Enjolras' crush, is enough to send his thoughts into a flutter again.</p><p>He feels terrible lying to Jehan, but he laughs the statement off all the same, hoping his face doesn't betray the erratic pounding of his heart.</p><p>They look at the photos for a few more minutes before getting back to work on the zine. Feuilly doesn't find anymore with him and Enjolras in it, but it's fun nonetheless.</p><p>"I know today is just tomorrow's nostalgia and everything, but there's nothing quite like looking through memories of friends."</p><p>Feuilly won't pretend he always knows what Jehan's talking about, but in this instance he finds himself agreeing.</p><p>They work at a decent pace, and by the time Feuilly gets up to leave, they've actually finished the first draft of the zine. Jehan runs to photocopy it from one of his flatmates' printer ("Don't tell them," he cautions Feuilly before running off down the hall) so Feuilly can take a copy back for Enjolras to look at.</p><p>He leaves Jehan with a smile and a hug and thinks about the picture of him and Enjolras some more on his way home. He'd wanted to ask Jehan to make a copy of that, also, but hadn't known how to ask.</p><p>Enjolras is sat at their coffee table when Feuilly enters, typing away on his laptop rather more furiously than usual. He raises a hand in greeting when Feuilly moves into the kitchen, his eyes barely leaving the screen. Feuilly suppresses a smile and doesn't interrupt, moving past him to grab a mug from the cubpoard and put the kettle on instead. With another glance back at Enjolras, he grabs another mug and reaches the green tea down as well.</p><p>He places Enjolras' mug in front of him when he's done and Enjolras' looks up at him, surprised. "Thank you," he says, fingers curing around the mug as he offers Feuilly a grateful smile.</p><p>Feuilly smiles back and pretends that he isn't fighting the urge to kiss his best friend-slash-roommate.</p><p>"What are you working on?" Feuilly asks when Enjolras' attention is no longer entirely focused on his laptop.</p><p>Enjolras sighs and leans back in his chair. "It's logistics for the mutual aid group. I went over it with Combeferre and Bossuet earlier and we found some things that might need expanding upon. I've been doing a lot of research on outreach ideas also. It's important work and I have to believe that the outcome will be worth it, but it's just..." he waves his hand about as if what it is he's not quite sure.</p><p>"Hard?"</p><p>"Mhm, yeah."</p><p>Feuilly drops into the seat opposite Enjolras. "I have a draft of the latest zine, if you'd like a quick distraction?"</p><p>Enjolras perks up immediately. "Sure. You and Jehan got it done already?"</p><p>Feuilly shrugs, retrieving the small booklet from his bag. He'd already gone through the process of putting it together back at Jehan's, so it's almost complete when he hands it to Enjolras. "We work fast, what can I say? It's only the first draft, but it's quite good. Oh, and wait til' you get to the page on police misconduct, you'll love it."</p><p>"Of course," says Enjolras, "what's not to love about police misconduct?"</p><p>Feuilly snorts, delighted as ever to draw out Enjolras' snark.</p><p>Enjolras looks through the zine slowly, taking his time to examine every page with meticulous care. Feuilly loves that about him, he realises, trying not to be too obvious about the way he watches Enjolras closely in order to drink in all his reactions.</p><p>Feuilly can tell when Enjolras gets to the page with himself on it, for his eyebrows raise a fraction, the tiniest indication of surprise.</p><p>"Wow, I'd completely forgotten about that photo."</p><p>Feuilly grins, "Limited edition baby activist Enjolras, an artefact to be treasured."</p><p>Enjolras laughs. "I don't know about that," he says, studying the photo more closely. "This was the Millbank occupation, right? That feels like so long ago. I don't think I'd even started taking testosterone at that point."</p><p>"Oh," Feuilly says, because he hadn't considered that. "We can take it out if it makes you uncomfortable," he offers.</p><p>Enjolras just smiles and shakes his head. "It's fine, I don't mind it. That was one of my first protests, I can't believe Jehan still keeps all those old newspapers," he frowns, tilting his head. "Well, actually, I can believe it, I suppose."</p><p>Feuilly debates telling Enjolras about the other photo he'd seen at Jehan's, about the collective ABC photos they'd gone through, the memories unearthed- but how to do that without explaining his motivations?</p><p>Soon though, the moment passes, and Feuilly keeps quiet. Enjolras flicks through the rest of the zine with just as much care, handing it back to Feuilly once done.</p><p>"It's amazing," he says, "you and Jehan are really talented."</p><p>Feuilly can feel his cheeks heat up and he curses all that is holy for his pale complexion, knowing that Enjolras will see his blush. Which is strange in itself, because Feuilly has never been one for false modesty. He knows his strengths and he doesn't usually get this flustered by a simple compliment.</p><p>"Thanks," he says, accounting for his awkwardness by smiling widely.</p><p>Enjolras gives him another one of his blinding smiles before his gaze drifts back to his laptop.</p><p>Feuilly drains his coffee, rising to place the mug in the sink. Enjolras hasn't finished his tea yet, so Feuilly leaves him to it, decides he should probably fix dinner.</p><p>He boils the kettle once more for pasta water and leans against the counter with a sigh. From the corner of his eye he can see Enjolras, staring at his laptop intently, his finger moving slowly on the mousepad.</p><p>There's a longing deep in his chest and an ache near his heart, but it's all made slightly more bearable when Enjolras turns his head towards Feuilly and smiles.</p><p>It's later that night when Feuilly gets an e-mail from the union about action against his employers. Apparently, different branches around the country are having the same issues as the warehouse where Feuilly works; layoffs, reduced hours but double the work, general mistreatment of staff, botched wages, the works. They're discussing potential options going forward at the meeting next week- including a ballot for nationwide strike action. Feuilly wants to pump his fist in their air in celebration and also maybe sleep until everything is all over. He's conflicted.</p><p>He shows Enjolras the e-mail once he's been through it a few times, holding his laptop patiently whilst Enjolras reads the tiny font. He's wearing his glasses, which Feuilly thinks make him look adorable, and when he's finished reading he turns to Feuilly and smiles questioningly. "That's good news, right?"</p><p>"Pretty much. If other branches are experiencing problems as well it means it's not just a one-off issue; they're fucking all their employees over. The fact that a strike is even being considered is amazing- it shows they're serious about taking this forward. It's definitely the best way to force their hand, one way or the other. If it gets past the ballot it might be, anyway."</p><p>"What's the threshold again?" asks Enjolras.</p><p>"Fifty per cent voter turnout with a simple majority," Feuilly recites. "Fucking Tories."</p><p>He remembers when that law had come into effect; it'd been only a month or so before he'd joined the ABC and the first time Feuilly had been properly involved in any sort of organising activity. He remembers lobbying against it with union representatives from across the country, joining forces with other unions to try and resist the blatant restrictions the government were trying to place on their activity. It had been Feuilly's first real entry point into activism, in a way. </p><p>Feuilly flops down on the sofa and re-reads the e-mail again. It asks him to gather opinions and any comments or questions to the meeting in a few days time. He's filled with both excitement and trepidation, and he can't decide if it would be better to reply now or wait until the morning. He knows there'll be a clearer picture of what to expect at the meeting, but he can't quiet his mind from trying to plan ahead anyway. He tries to remind himself that just because a strike is an option, it doesn't mean one will happen. Strikes mean work. There's campaigning to be done, communications to organise, a ballot has to go through, a solidarity fund has to be set up, logistics have to be sorted out...</p><p>And none of that even touches upon what it will mean for Feuilly personally.</p><p>Enjolras must read the multitude of emotions in his face, for he moves closer to Feuilly and rests his hand on Feuilly's shoulder. "You should get some rest," he says softly. "Leave it until the morning."</p><p>Feuilly's hands hesitate on the keyboard but eventually, he relents, closing his laptop and leaning back in the sofa cushions. He's as grateful as ever for Enjolras' guidance and even more grateful for the way Enjolras' hand, dislodged from its previous position on Feuilly's shoulder, makes it's way to his back and begins to rub soothing circles there.</p><p>Feuilly allows himself a moment to be selfish and bask in the glow of Enjolras' affections, his warmth and radiance all too comforting to Feuilly's stressed state of mind.</p><p>Only a moment, and then he's pulling away and stretching his legs out, moving from the sofa into their kitchen. He places his mug in the sink and hears the soft sound of Enjolras' footsteps behind him.</p><p>"You should get some sleep as well," Feuilly tells him, all too aware of Enjolras' tendency to ignore his own advice.</p><p>"I will," Enjolras reassures him with a quick smile. Feuilly can't resist the urge to give him a hug, so he does so, just a quick press of his upper body to Enjolras', an arm around his shoulders. His heart is beating faster when he lets go and he smiles to hide it, saying a quick goodnight before returning to his room.</p><p>Feuilly tries to sleep but it continually escapes him. After around an hour of staring up at his ceiling he gives up and retrieves his laptop from the desk. He can't send an e-mail now, but he can draft one. He tries not to feel too guilty about ignoring Enjolras' concerned suggestion that he get rest as he types it out, and once it's done he makes a quick plan for tomorrow: he'll go to work, but instead of going to the library he'll visit the Student's Union and ask for more hours so he can make up some of what he'll lose. It's a decent plan and he feels more settled once he has it, falling into sleep easily.</p><p>When Feuilly tells Marc about the potential strike action the next day, the older man's only reaction is to raise his eyebrows and say "about time, innit?" before clapping Feuilly on the shoulder and continuing with his work. Marie looks conflicted but smile brightly at him and offers whatever she can do to help. Feuilly is immensely grateful for both of them.</p><p>Paul is less understanding, which Feuilly had expected, but still makes him angry. He tries to tell Paul that he's being screwed over just as much as the rest of them, that yes, it could be a lot worse, but it could also be a lot better, and they don't have to consent to being mistreated because of that. Paul's only response is to sigh at Feuilly as if he's a terrible inconvenience before walking away from the conversation.</p><p>"He said he'll support a strike if it goes ahead, but he's not going to vote for one," Feuilly relays to Combeferre, Courferyac, and Enjolras a day later. He'd come home from the Student's Union to find them still in the middle of their pre-meeting planning and had hastily been seated with a coffee placed in front of him. "Which is fucking annoying, because you guys know how hard it's gonna be just to pass the threshold, never mind the ballot itself."</p><p>"Whatever I can do to help, Feuilly, let me know," Enjolras says earnestly, reaching across the table to grab Feuilly's hand. "The ABC even, we've supported strikes before, we can do so again. A statement, physical support, help with campaigning, I'm sure we could do it."</p><p>Feuilly tries to battle down the rush of heat that had taken over him when Enjolras grabbed his hand. "It might be something to bring up at the ABC," he admits. "Even if it's just a statement of solidarity."</p><p>"It's certainly worth looking into," says Combeferre, leaning against the counter behind Enjolras, "we have a lot of equipment you could use as well, if it does pass ballot- want me to add it to tomorrow's agenda?"</p><p>Enjolras nods up at Combeferre at the same time as he squeezes Feuilly's hand. "Do you think you can make it?" he asks. "We can always see if another day would work, if not."</p><p>"No, that's okay. It'd be a nightmare trying to reschedule it to fit everyone's timetables. Believe me," he laughs, awkwardly, running his other hand through his hair. "I'll try my best, though it's still all over the place with the rota."</p><p>"Even if you can't make it, everything will be recorded," says Combeferre. Feuilly smiles up at her in thanks, very aware of how he and Enjolras are still holding hands over the table.</p><p>He makes the mistake of catching Courfeyrac's eye. Seated to the left of Enjolras and therefore mostly hidden from his view, he simply raises an eyebrow at Feuilly, a barely there gesture that Feuilly probably wouldn't even have registered if circumstances were different.</p><p>Feuilly squeezes Enjolras' fingers lightly and lets go, drawing his hand back to rest on his knee.</p><p>"How's the allotment coming along?" he asks the three of them, a swift change of topic. They allow it, and the next half an hour is spent talking about community gardening, crop yields, and the role it'll play in the mutual aid group.</p><p>Feuilly tries not to make it obvious, but he's watching Enjolras more than Combeferre or Courfeyrac as the conversation progresses, charmed by the passion in his voice as he speaks about natural pest control, of all things. Enjolras believes so firmly in what they can achieve that Feuilly struggles with tempering down the swelling of his chest as he listens to him speak.</p><p>Courfeyrac and Combeferre leave just as it's getting dark, both clasping Feuilly's shoulder before they leave; Combeferre with a small smile and Courfeyrac with a wide one. Feuilly feels rather more seen than he'd like to admit in the face of Courfyerac's grin, although he might just be paranoid and imagining things.</p><p>"Coffee?" Enjolras asks once the door is closed behind them and Feuilly smiles, nodding his head before Enjolras has even got out the second syllable.</p><p>Work on Monday is more draining than usual. Feuilly doesn't know if it will come to a strike ballot or not yet but he wants to be ready if it does, and thus he spends most of his time both on and off shift talking to his co-workers, trying to gauge their opinions on any industrial action, trying to get any not involved in the union to sign up so they can vote if it does come to a ballot. It's exhausting work, but Feuilly has always been stubborn and that's not about to change.</p><p>Besides, he can feel the atmosphere in the warehouse is changing. They're all feeling fucked over by the recent changes to the rota and their workload and Feuilly feels cautiously optimistic about their chances of passing ballot if it comes to a strike.</p><p>The ABC meeting next Monday comes and goes, with the unanimous decision to support any strike action Feuilly's workplace may be taking, and to review the situation as it progresses. Enjolras smiles at him from across the room once the consensus has been reached and Feuilly feels almost blinded by the sincerity of it.</p><p>He keeps thinking about that smile over the next few days, wondering at what point he needs to start worrying that whatever he feels about Enjolras isn't going to go away on its own. After another morning where Enjolras makes him pancakes, Feuilly bites the bullet and does the only thing he can logically think to do: he goes to Courfeyrac.</p><p>Well, that's not the first thing he does. The first thing he does is go to Bahorel to get drunk, and along with Grantaire they go through what feels like every bar in the city. By the end of the night Feuilly has lost the ability to walk properly, stumbling into the flat at 4am and, despite his best efforts, waking Enjolras up in the process. He has an evening shift the day after, so it doesn't matter that he'll have a horrific hangover tomorrow, but waking Enjolras up in the middle of the night is not something Feuilly wanted to have happened, for multiple reasons.</p><p>Enjolras, possessor of unlimited patience, does not shout at Feuilly for waking him up, but gently leads him into his bed, helps him dress into pyjamas and leaves him with a glass of water on his nightstand, two paracetamol capsules on his bedside table, and a kiss on his forehead.</p><p>Needless to say, none of that has helped Feuilly's burgeoning crush. Nor had spending the night listening to Grantaire ramble on and on about Enjolras' hair and his face and his saintliness. Far from the semi-amusing drivel Feuilly normally tolerates, this time it had only served to make him grumpy. Mainly because Enjolras is more than his physical beauty and the pedestal Grantaire puts him on, but also because Feuilly hates that he suddenly sympathises with Grantaire's longing.</p><p>So, here he is now, standing at the door to Courfeyrac and Marius' apartment and feeling a strange trepidation at going inside.</p><p>He's already texted Courfeyrac to ask if he can come over, a very vague <em>Hey, mind if I drop by later?</em>, to which Courfeyrac had responded with a prompt <em>ofc!</em> along with the time he finished work.</p><p>The building Courfeyrac lives in is only marginally nicer than his own, but the layout is very much the same. Courfeyrac and Marius are on the third floor and Feuilly takes the stairs instead of the lift to buy him some more time. He tells himself he's just getting his breath back from the climb as he waits outside, but he's been breathing normally for five minutes now and is no closer to going in than when he arrived.</p><p>In his back pocket, his phone starts to ring, and Feuilly curses. Sure enough, when he checks it's Courfeyrac calling, so Feuilly decides to bite the bullet and knocks on the door, ignoring his phone.</p><p>Courfeyrac answers a few seconds later, smiling at Feuilly from the moment his face comes into view.</p><p>"Come in, come in," Courfeyrac says, holding the door wide open, "I just called you."</p><p>Feuilly holds his phone up, offering a sheepish smile. "I got here just as it started ringing," he lies.</p><p>Courfeyrac ushers Feuilly into the kitchen, indicating a stool as he fills the kettle.</p><p>"Coffee, I presume?" he asks, looking over his shoulder.</p><p>Feuilly nods, "please."</p><p>He sits down, feeling only a little bit awkward in Courfeyrac's kitchen and in Courfeyrac's living space. Feuilly doesn't really do... house calls. Whenever he sees his friends it's usually at group gatherings or in coffee shops or between his shifts. This casual, personal atmosphere is largely unfamiliar to him.</p><p>The first time he'd been to Jehan's house for their zine-making it'd taken Jehan fifteen minutes to convince Feuilly to have a seat on the couch. Even moving in with Enjolras had felt weird for the first few weeks, Feuilly unused to the casual intimacy of simply sharing space.</p><p>As if knowing that his thoughts had turned in the direction of Enjolras, Courfeyrac speaks up. "I'm afraid Marius isn't in at the minute, or he would have joined us. Though, to be fair, Marius is rather inept at dealing with romantic situations that aren't his own." Courfeyrac stops and turns around to grin at Feuilly. "Well, that's not strictly true, he's also rather inept when it comes to his own relationships, but he has me to help him along."</p><p>"Right," Feuilly says, because he's fairly sure his face has turned a bright shade of red and he's not sure what else he can say.</p><p>Courfeyrac squints at him. "This is about Enjolras, right?"</p><p>No point denying it now. "Yeah," he admits, before hastily adding- "though that doesn't mean I don't genuinely want your company as well."</p><p>Waving him off with a hand and another grin, Courfeyrac turns back to the kettle, retrieving two mugs from a cupboard above his head. "Careful, Feuilly, you'll inflate my ego, and Combeferre tells me it is already big enough."</p><p>"It's a shame she can't say the same about other parts of you," Feuilly says, smirking.</p><p>Courfeyrac whirls around at once. "The cheek!" he exclaims, clutching his heart for dramatic effect, "in my own home! And to think, I was going to help you in your efforts to woo my best friend!"</p><p>Feuilly rolls his eyes but he can't help but grin, especially when Courfeyrac drops the offended facade and smiles back at him, the room seeming to glow brighter with it.</p><p>This is why Feuilly loves Courfeyrac; he has a natural ease about him that makes every situation seem more manageable. He can also banter freely with Courfeyrac and knows that the other man will never take offence, giving it back in fair amounts. It's a quality Feuilly always admires, but never more so than at the minute.</p><p>Courfeyrac brings the coffee round to Feuilly and sets it in front of him, dragging his own cup back to his chest and looking at Feuilly with glee. "So," he says casually and not like he's enjoying every painstaking minute of this. "Enjolras."</p><p>"Yeah," Feuilly agrees. "Enjolras."</p><p>He doesn't know how to expand on that. Courfeyrac maybe senses his hesatation, for his expression softens and he takes pity on Feuilly. "I was just teasing earlier, you know," he starts, "I may not know the full story but between our conversation a while ago, everything Enjolras has told me in the last few weeks, and seeing you two all close a few days ago, I figured it was probably to do with him."</p><p>"You figured right," Feuilly admits, sipping at his coffee. And then- "wait, what has Enjolras said about me?"</p><p>The grin is back. "Just one-off comments here and there. I probably wouldn't have thought anything of it, if you hadn't asked me about his crush already. He told me that he told you," Courfeyrac continues. "and little things about how he's glad it hasn't changed anything between you, and if anything your friendship has grown stronger since. He mentioned you'd been spending more time together, especially in the mornings."</p><p>Feuilly tries valiantly to keep the smile off of his face, attempting to hide it by taking a large drink of coffee. Courfeyrac catches it anyway, and his own smile widens.</p><p>"We have," Feuilly confirms, perhaps redundantly. "Mornings with him are my favourite part of the day," he admits, quietly.</p><p>The confession makes his cheeks heat up and Feuilly ducks his head to hide it in the silence that follows. When he looks up again Courfeyrac is watching him thoughtfully, all traces of playfulness gone.</p><p>"You like him, right? As more than a friend?"</p><p>Feuilly fights the urge to roll his eyes. "I thought you already knew the answer to that?" he bites back.</p><p>Courfeyrac holds up his hands in a surrender-like pose. "I never said I knew anything. I had an unconfirmed guess, at best. People are always telling me that I see romance when it's not there, I didn't want to assume."</p><p>A moment passes in which neither of them speak.</p><p>"Sorry," says Feuilly, eventually. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, and you're trying to help."</p><p>Courfeyrac nods, satisfied. "So?"</p><p>Feuilly frowns in confusion before their previous conversation catches up with him. "Oh," he says eloquently. "I think I do."</p><p>"You think?" It's not said unkindly, but with a prompting air that allows Feuilly no out.</p><p>"I mean," Feuilly hesitates; he's never been good at articulating the thoughts in his head. When it comes to politics Feuilly could talk for days, but his own feelings are a more clumsy matter that struggle along the journey from his mind to his mouth. He supposes he and Enjolras are similar in that regard, at least. "I think I like him as more than a friend. But I'm worried it's only because I know he had a crush on me and that's making me... I don't know, project all these feelings onto him that aren't really there."</p><p>Courfeyrac considers him carefully for a few seconds. Smiling reassuringly at Feuilly, he reaches across the table and squeezes his hand gently before letting go again. "I wondered that too, when I started thinking that there might be something going on between you. But I also think, even if that piece of information was what sparked your feelings, that doesn't make them less real, or less valid. Like, sure, maybe you've never thought of him that way before. And then he tells you this, and it makes you start to wonder. I don't think that's projecting, necessarily."</p><p>Feuilly hums, staring into the dark depths of his coffee mug like it holds all the answers to his dilemma.</p><p>"On the other side, of course," Courfeyrac continues, in a yet gentler tone, "he's my best friend, and my brother, and I'm inclined to be a little protective of him. So obviously I'm worried that, valid as they may be, your feelings would pass and it'd hurt him."</p><p>Feuilly nods; that's a fair assessment.</p><p>Courfeyrac is still going, however. "Saying that, I do know that it's not my job to meddle in his relationships in order to protect him. He can handle himself."</p><p>Feuilly laughs slightly, a small sound that makes Courfeyrac smile once more.</p><p>"Look at you, learning not to worm your way into other people's business."</p><p>"I resent that," Courfeyrac says lightly. "I will always be in other people's business."</p><p>"Sure," says Feuilly, rolling his eyes playfully. Courfeyrac sticks his tongue out in response, like a child.</p><p>"Other than that though, I don't really know what to say. Did that help, at all?" Courfeyrac asks.</p><p>Feuilly nods. "It did. I still don't know what to do about it, though. I don't even- you said I could hurt him, if they passed. Does that mean you think he still likes me?"</p><p>Courfeyrac runs his tongue over his lips before answering. "I don't think he has a crush on you anymore, not actively."</p><p>Feuilly tries not to let his irrational disappointment show with the words, but Courfeyrac holds up a hand before he can follow up. "But, I think- and I don't know this for sure, I just think- that doesn't necessarily mean something would never happen, you know? Even if he doesn't have a crush, he respects you more than anyone. He trusts you, he admires you, he enjoys spending time with you... I don't want to speak on his behalf, but I know him, and I don't think he'd say an outright 'no', at least."</p><p>"Huh," Feuilly says. He tries to calm the feeling in his chest that feels too much like hope and elation rolled into one; he is not trying to get his hopes up here.</p><p>"Please don't take any of that as certain, though." Courfeyrac almost begs. "Just because I think you'd be compatible, doesn't mean it'd work. If you want to know how he feels, he's probably the best person to ask."</p><p>"Yeah, I know that, I just..." Feuilly trails off, struggling to put into words the spiral in his mind.</p><p>He can't ask Enjolras how he feels about him without knowing his own feelings first, but not knowing if Enjolras would be open to a potential relationship is making those feelings harder to decipher.</p><p>If he knew for a fact that Enjolras still had a crush on him, Feuilly would go home right now and explain everything, but as he's working on the basis that his feelings are probably not reciprocated... It's a little more difficult.</p><p>He understands what Enjolras had meant when he said that it wasn't worth risking their friendship for.</p><p>Feuilly somewhat awkwardly articulates this to Courfeyrac who hums in thought.</p><p>"I guess, what it comes down to," says Courfeyrac, leaning forwards slightly, "is whether or not it'd change anything between you."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>Courfeyrac shrugs, "If you talk to him, and he's not interested in pursuing anything, would it change anything? I mean, you live together, you're best friends- what would the outcome of that look like if he rejected you?"</p><p>"I thought Enjolras was your best friend?" Feuilly asks innocently.</p><p>In response, Courfeyrac simply narrows his eyes. "We're all his best friends. Stop deflecting."</p><p>Feuilly sighs. "I don't think it would change. It might be awkward for a while but I don't think it'd affect our friendship. I respect him too much for that."</p><p>"He respects you too, you know."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>He does. Enjolras' respect is always something he's treasured; he's not entirely sure what he did to earn such respect, but he's grateful for it nevertheless.</p><p>It's easy to be open with Enjolras. Despite how Feuilly often struggles to speak about his personal problems, there's always been something about Enjolras that makes it easier. If it were anyone else Feuilly was harbouring secret feelings for, he'd already have spoken to him about it now, despite Enjolras' ineptitude when it comes to romance.</p><p>Feuilly sighs, placing his head in his hands as Courfeyrac chuckles lightly. His coffee is long empty by now; Courfeyrac relieves him of the mug and loads it into the dishwasher along with his own, coming back up to Feuilly and placing a hand on his back.</p><p>"Sorry I can't make things easier," Courfeyrac says, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Feuilly's back.</p><p>Feuilly shakes his head. "You've been great," he says, because Courfeyrac has been great. Feuilly has no doubt that Courfeyrac would make things easier if he could- it's in his nature to want his friends happy, after all- but as it is, Feuilly might have to figure this one out alone.</p><p>Feeling a rush of gratitude, Feuilly stands up and enveloped Courfeyrac in a hug. Courfeyrac laughs in surprise before returning the embrace, hugging Feuilly tightly.</p><p>Feuilly spends a few more hours in Courfeyrac's company since he'd made sure to call on a free evening, taking him up on the offer to watch a film on Netflix and order takeout ("My treat," Courfeyrac had said with a smile, and Feuilly hadn't even been able to argue.)</p><p>It's dark by the time he gets back to the apartment, and Enjolras is nowhere to be found. Feuilly frowns, wondering if Enjolras went out and forgot to mention it, when he hears muffled voices from Enjolras' room.</p><p>Feuilly is not going to resort to eavesdropping, so he simply gets a shower and changes into pyjamas instead. It's probably just Combeferre, he reasons with himself; whenever the two of them meet they're liable to get carried away and talk into the early hours of the morning.</p><p>Feuilly has his union meeting tomorrow, and needs to be up early for the train, so he really should have everything prepared. The meeting is in London for once, being a national meeting instead of a regional one. He settles on the sofa with papers spread out before him, beaten down laptop sitting precariously on the arm, and attempts to focus.</p><p>It's hard, with the muffled sound of voices coming from Enjolras' room (Feuilly isn't eavesdropping, he isn't), and eventually, Feuilly realises that it's not voices- it's voice, singular. Enjolras must be on the phone.</p><p>He's about halfway through the planned agenda when Enjolras' voice stops, and around ten minutes later Enjolras emerges.</p><p>Feuilly looks up at once, a smile already on his face. It quickly drops when he sees Enjolras. His eyes are red, along with his nose, and he looks for all the world as if he's just been crying.</p><p>"What's wrong?" Feuilly says immediately, mind jumping to the worst.</p><p>Enjolras waves him off and attempts a small smile. He doesn't answer Feuilly's question but instead comes to sit next to him on the sofa. Feuilly quickly rearranges his now chaotic display of papers so Enjolras has space.</p><p>"Thank you," Enjolras says quietly. He frowns, looking at the folder, "is this union work?"</p><p>"It is," says Feuilly rather distractedly, taking his cues from Enjolras. "I have the representative meeting tomorrow."</p><p>"Oh," says Enjolras, "of course, I remember."</p><p>They fade into silence. Feuilly finishes up his notes on the agenda points and then relocates all of his work to the floor. He hopes that by making space, Enjolras will open up about what's troubling him.</p><p>When no conversation seems forthcoming, Feuilly gently nudges Enjolras' knee with his own. Enjolras jumps slightly, startled out of his reverie.</p><p>Feuilly heavily suspects he knows who was on the other end of the phone; there's very few people who can inspire such a reaction from Enjolras.</p><p>"Are you alright?" Feuilly asks, in a gentle a tone as he can manage.</p><p>Enjolras nods, once. "I'm fine," he says.</p><p>Feuilly wonders if he'll need more prompting, but before he can dwell on it, Enjolras speaks again.</p><p>"I was on the phone with my mother," he goes on quietly, confirming Feuilly's earlier suspicions. "It was a good call. I don't know why I'm..." he trails off, waves a hand up to his face, the dried tears on his cheeks. "We're getting along better, she's really making an effort. It's nice."</p><p>"There's a lot of emotions involved there," Feuilly matches Enjolras' tone, speaking quietly as he tries to offer comfort. "It's okay to feel whatever you do about it."</p><p>He wishes he could say more, but Feuilly suspects words probably aren't what Enjolras needs right now. Decreasing the distance between them on the sofa, Feuilly shuffles until he's close enough to tentatively wrap and arm around Enjolras. Enjolras doesn't react at first but then he curls into Feuilly's side, bringing a hand up to rest on Feuilly's arm as his head drops onto Feuilly's shoulder.</p><p>Although he doesn't know the whole story, Feuilly has gathered that Enjolras never had a great relationship with his parents. He knows Enjolras considers his upbringing largely irrelevant to his life now and mentions his parents with reluctance, if ever.</p><p>He knows that Enjolras' student fees are paid for by the government, that, like Marius, he's classed as being financially estranged from his parents.</p><p>He also knows that for the past year or so Enjolras' mother has been trying to reconnect with him, and they've been making small steps towards re-acquaintance ever since. Enjolras calls her maybe once a month and although the calls seem to be mostly small talk and forced pleasantries, Enjolras had once admitted that they leave him exhausted.</p><p>Rubbing a hand down Enjolras' back, Feuilly simply holds his friend and hopes that it helps. Enjolras isn't crying, but breathing evenly into Feuilly's shoulder; his breath tickles Feuilly's neck slightly. This close, he can feel the beat of Enjolras' heart through his thin shirt, and Feuilly desperately hopes that his own doesn't seem too fast in comparison.</p><p>Eventually, Enjolras draws back, but leaves his hand on Feuilly's arm. "Thank you," he says, sincerity rolling off of his tongue. "You're such a good friend, Feuilly."</p><p>Feuilly smiles and squeezes Enjolras' shoulder in response.</p><p>"Tea?" he asks, his smile only growing as Enjolras' eyes light up further.</p><p>Feuilly asks him if he wants to talk about it; Enjolras shakes his head and says he'd rather not just yet. Instead, they talk about Feuilly's role as a union representative over tea (and coffee) until they both sheepishly admit they should probably go to bed.</p><p>Enjolras bids Feuilly goodnight with a hug, and Feuilly watches him enter his room with a wistful sigh.</p><p>He thinks back on his conversation with Courfeyrac and the events of the past few hours. He thinks of the unexpected jealousy he'd felt upon coming home and thinking there was someone with Enjolras in his room; the overwhelming urge to fix whatever was upsetting him when Enjolras emerged from his room with sadness clinging to his frame. He thinks about all his trouble with work, and Enjolras' neverending support. He's not interfering with Feuilly's battles but giving a free offer of help and Feuilly just about loves him for it.</p><p>Thoughts about Enjolras and Feuilly's maybe-crush on him keep Feuilly awake for the second night in a row, and when he finally does fall asleep, he dreams fitfully of a one-man picket line and Enjolras' tear-stained cheek.</p><p>Feuilly cycles to the train station the next morning, locking his bike up outside before he enters. The trip is paid for, for which Feuilly is extremely grateful, and he manages to snag a table seat, which enables him to review his report on his laptop on the journey there. Leeds to London is a few hours, though, so he finishes pretty quickly, realising that this might be the first proper free time he's had in a while.</p><p>He checks his phone idly, seeing a few messages. He opens the ones from Enjolras first- <em>good luck with the meeting!</em>, reads the first one and, <em>hope all goes well</em>, the second. Finally, Enjolras has sent a single raised fist emoji and Feuilly bites back the smile it brings to his lips. He texts back a quick <em>Thank you!</em> before turning his attention to the window, watching the land roll by beside him.</p><p>It's not like he's a stranger to London's streets, but he's never usually there for business reasons. Nearly all the times he can think of have been to attend protests and rallies, or to meet associates from other anarchist circles. It's a little strange walking around with just a shoulder bag and in his smart-casual clothes.</p><p>The meeting goes well; Feuilly delivers his report and includes the essential items that had been on the brief- the general attitude towards strike action in his workplace is positive (bar his manager), most of their employees approve of a ballot for strike action even if they're unsure about a strike, and yes, their working conditions have got worse since the company's switchover in September. He details the work rota changing and the damaging knock-on effect it'd had in their workplace; he outlines the mishap with payroll, the refusal of HR to deal with their complaints, their increased working loads. He hears similar accounts told from other branches across the country.</p><p>Feuilly's pleased to hear that many of the other representatives report the same thing; a general willingness for industrial action, even if there's disagreements about the timing and duration of that action. Some people would prefer a set date for a strike whereas others advocate for prolonged strike action. The merits of both are debated, but it's quickly concluded that prolonged action would be too hard to achieve within the law and they'd struggle with funding if it were to go on for more than a couple of weeks. It potentially reduces their bargaining power but someone suggests holding a week of strike action during the January sales, and that quickly becomes a favoured idea. </p><p>The solution is quickly adopted and the meeting ends with a decision to ballot for a week of strike action in January, to coincide with the post-Christmas sales. Feuilly thinks it's smart to have it during the sales; a week isn't too long that they'll struggle to uphold it, but hopefully the timing of it means it'll have the same impact as if they'd gone on longer.</p><p>Once the meeting ends Feuilly has a few hours to kill before his train, so he visits some of the radical bookshops he knows his way to by heart. When it's time for his return journey, Feuilly only just makes it back to Euston Station before his train leaves without him. The book he brought is weighing down his bag (and okay, maybe Feuilly isn't as financially stable as he was prior to the work business, but he has enough money to occasionally splurge on small things, and he knows Enjolras has been looking for this particular title for ages,) and Feuilly flips through it on the journey home, in between checking his messages.</p><p>He's smiling as he walks through the door and he knows Enjolras can tell, that Enjolras must know that it's good news.</p><p>"So?" he asks once Feuilly's toed his shoes off in the doorway and seated himself next to Enjolras on the sofa. Enjolras' body is turned towards him, his arms clasped together around one bent knee. He looks so eager for news that Feuilly can't resist toying with him a little. </p><p>He  lays back on the sofa cushions and gets comfortable before he turns to Enjolras, and, feigning ignorance, asks, "so what?"</p><p>Enjolras gapes at him. "Feuilly!" he exclaims, reaching behind him for a pillow and hitting Feuilly with it. </p><p>Feuilly is so caught-off guard that he forgets to uphold the act and instead raises his arms to defend himself, laughing all the while. "Okay, okay! We're balloting for strike action. If it passes we'll strike for a week in January, at the same time as the sales."</p><p>Enjolras' attack ceases; he drops the pillow and grins. "That's amazing."</p><p>Feuilly can't help it, he grins back. "Yeah, it is."</p><p>He doesn't think about how much work is involved in campaigning, in making sure they meet the threshold so that the strike can actually go ahead. He doesn't think about how much work it will be to organise a solidarity fund, to effectively communicate with the press, to actually go on strike. He doesn't think about it, because he's thinking about Enjolras, and how he's smiling so widely at Feuilly that Feuilly feels like he might burst. </p><p>"I got something for you, by the way," Feuilly says, digging the book out of his bag and throwing it the short distance to Enjolras, who catches it in both hands.</p><p>Enjolras turns the book around and studies the title. His smile grows. "Feuilly, you shouldn't-"</p><p>"Shut up Enjolras, I swear to God," Feuilly cuts him off. "I know showing my appreciation for all your help over these past few weeks with the purchasing of a commodity is a capitalist sin, but you've been talking about that book for ages, it's purchase has supported a radical co-operative business, and also I just really wanted to say thank you."</p><p>Enjolras smiles once again, eyes on the book as if it's something to be cherished. "Thank you," he says softly.</p><p>"Besides," Feuilly continues, "I expect to read it after you; I flicked through it on the train and it looks very interesting."</p><p>"I'll read quickly," Enjolras promises. He still has the book clutched to his chest and Feuilly has to turn away to hide his goofy grin.</p><p>He'd almost forgotten about his feelings for Enjolras in all the chaos of the day (because Feuilly has come to terms with it now, there are definitely Feelings there, even if he's not quite sure what kind.) But seeing Enjolras' smile brings them rushing to the forefront of his mind, even as he does all he can to quell them. </p><p>If anything, his feelings seem even more tangible now that he's spoken them out loud, as if he'd crafted them into being when he'd confided in Courfeyrac. Enjolras doesn't have a crush on him anymore; Courfeyrac had been almost sure about that. But Courfeyrac had also said that Enjolras might not be opposed to being more-than-friends with Feuilly. He thinks back to their first conversation, all those weeks ago, and tries to remember Enjolras' words. Had he said anything to suggest that he wouldn't say no to a relationship? Feuilly doesn't think so. </p><p>Feuilly's not even sure what more-than-friends would look like for him and Enjolras. He can imagine it, if he tries, but it looks almost the same as what they currently have. They already live together, after all, and there isn't a soul in the world that Feuilly feels more comfortable around than Enjolras.</p><p>He spends the rest of the night stuck in his thoughts, only half-present as he reads an article about Hungarian foreign policy on his laptop. Enjolras is sat against the opposite end of the sofa with his knees pulled up to his chest, reading the book Feuilly bought him. It's almost unbearably domestic and Feuilly feels a rush of something that's not quite panic when he realises he could happily do this forever, sit here with Enjolras next to him, both of them immersed in their own political readings. </p><p>Without quite meaning to, Feuilly drops his hand and skims it across Enjolras' lower leg.</p><p>Enjolras looks up at once, not quite startled, but surprised. He pauses, using his finger to keep his page, and the simple gesture is endlessly endearing to Feuilly. "Hey," Enjolras says softly when Feuilly makes no move to speak, and fuck, Feuilly is so incredibly gone. </p><p>"Hey," he says back. "Thanks. For being you."</p><p>Enjolras blinks, then smiles, softly. He shuffles forwards, transferring his book to his other hand as he moves along the couch and re-settles himself against Feuilly's side. His head brushes Feuilly's shoulder when he leans back and the weight is oddly comforting. </p><p>"Thank you for being you, too," he says.</p><p>They pass the rest of the evening sat like that; Enjolras' head on Feuilly's arm and Feuilly's heart beating wildly within his chest. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Anarcho-syndicalism basically applies anarchism to workers movements and advocates for a very bottom-up approach to organising. Obviously all of the amis here probably have different main philosophies in regards to anarchism but broadly they'd all be syndicalists, I'd imagine.<br/>2. The inspiration for Enjolras' three ingredient vegan pancake recipe goes to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckwithminusharry/pseuds/stuckwithminusharry/works">stuckwith-harry</a> and can be found <a href="https://elavegan.com/banana-oat-pancakes-vegan/">here</a>. It's literally the Best Thing Ever<br/>3. The zine Jehan and Feuilly make is based off a zine some of my activist friends in London started and I highly recommend checking it out if you're into that kind of thing! It's called Bustcard and available to read online for free <a href="https://bustcard.wixsite.com/bustcard">here</a>. It's super accessible and explains hard concepts in a really easy to understand way (it also has a glossary in every edition which was such a helpful resource when writing this fic.)<br/>4. Millbank is the Conservative Party's London headquarters, and in 2010 it was spontaneously occupied (and vandalised) by hundreds of students after a march to protest the rise of university tuition fees. In this fic, I like to headcanon it as the first time Enjolras saw what people power could truly achieve and then he basically never looked back.<br/>5. When Enjolras and Feuilly are talking about thresholds needed to pass ballot, they're talking about the Trade Union Act 2016 which basically made it super hard for unions to take legal strike action and also tried to deprive them of all their funds. It's one of the most regressive labour laws in the UK since Thatcher's era and Feuilly is rightfully angry about it.<br/>6. Just a bit about balloting because it creeps up a lot- the 2016 act requires 50% of a union's membership to vote on whether or not to go on strike, and of that 50%, over 50% have to vote yes. These are classed as quite high thresholds because the average voter turnout is around 30%. The biggest reason why most strikes don't go ahead is failure to make the threshold. Feuilly has a lot of work ahead of him.<br/>7. I bit the bullet and finally chose to base this fic in Leeds (a city in the North of England) not for any plot-relevant reasons but mainly because I didn't want it to be set in London. </p><p>Thanks once again for reading! And once again, I'd love to know your thoughts! </p><p>You can find me on Tumblr at <a href="https://www.thelawsofdaylight.tumblr.com">@thelawsofdaylight</a> :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The stress of the past few weeks is catching up with him; Feuilly feels as if he barely even has time to think, never mind plan for a possible strike. Between organising, studying for finals, and work, there's very little time left for just himself- but Feuilly is determined. </p><p>"I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help?" Enjolras asks one night, resting a hand on Feuilly's shoulder as he speaks.</p><p>Feuilly moves to cover it with his own. "You do enough, and you know it," he replies.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi again! So, this was delayed a bit mainly because there was so much else going on in the world (including barricade day which I failed to factor into the timeline when I was coming up with a posting schedule for this fic,) but it's here now! Another huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! This one has a lot going on in it but it takes us over the bump- I'm anticipating one more chapter after this and then a shorter epilogue. </p><p>Once again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! :)</p><p>CW for minor injury description and mention of blood (we're talking cuts and scrapes here but I'm aware that even that might be distressing at this time so let me know if you're concerned and I'll try and work something out!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The can of spraypaint rattles in Feuilly's hand. He shakes it once more before drawing a large line across the wall, crossing over the space he'd painted earlier. The night is quiet aside from the hiss of their spraycans and the hum of their quiet laughter. Feuilly works as quickly as he can, Jehan and Joly beside him. </p><p>"Jollly, can you get me a bit higher?" Jehan asks in a voice just above a whisper.</p><p>Joly grunts, and Feuilly looks across to see him try and hoist Jehan up higher. Jehan wobbles dangerously on Joly's shoulders for a second, dropping his can in the process. Moving quickly, Feuilly hops down from the dustbin he's standing on and positions himself to catch Jehan, should he fall. Thankfully after a few seconds, Jehan finds his balance and both Joly and Feuilly sigh in relief. </p><p>"Good?" Feuilly asks, passing him back the can of spray paint.</p><p>"Great," Jehan replies, grinning down at Feuilly as he takes the can and reaches up to finish the curve of his 'H'.</p><p>The ABC had first become aware of the far-right graffiti popping up all over the shopping district's streets about a week ago; Bahorel had messaged the groupchat with a photo she'd taken whilst out walking with her girlfriend. The city council were quick to cover it up but the paint job had been less than amazing, the original letters still visible beneath the white paint. A few days later, more had appeared, along with numerous posters scattered across the streets. They'd decided at the last ABC meeting to take things into their own hands and cover it up for good.</p><p>Feuilly, Jehan, and Joly are in charge of the wall; the others are finding and removing the posters with Bossuet and Courfeyrac playing lookout. </p><p>It feels to Feuilly as though he's been busy with nothing but union activity ever since the decision to ballot was made. Being here, with his friends, dressed in all black under the cover of the night sky, is almost like a breath of fresh air. Feuilly knows how important his work organising for the strike is, he really does, but he's cautious to not let himself be defined by it.</p><p>Feuilly finishes his half of the wall with a last circle to dot his exclamation point. Beside him, Jehan is also finishing up, still balanced carefully on Joly's shoulders. </p><p>"Okay," Jehan breathes, "help me down."</p><p>It's a careful operation but one they'd practised back at the Musain; Joly bends his knees as much as he can whilst also lowering his head to the floor. Jehan grabs Feuilly's arms and swings his legs over Joly's head, landing in a semi-graceful heap in Feuilly's arms. They're all laughing by the time Jehan's feet are successfully back on the ground and Feuilly feels a lightness in his chest that's been lacking for a while now. </p><p>There's a scuffle of feet behind them and the three of them whip around, ready to bolt. </p><p>Thankfully it's only Combeferre, who waves as she approaches. "That looks amazing," she says as she gets close enough to see their mural. Feuilly takes a step back and looks himself. The letters are bold, as Joly had suggested, the raised fist in the middle separating the complimenting phrases. Feuilly's side reads 'power to the people', Jehan's side reads 'death to the fascists'. </p><p>"Did everything go okay with you guys?" Jehan asks, coming to stand closer to Combeferre. "Is everyone okay?"</p><p>"Everything's fine," replies Combeferre, "well, mostly."</p><p>Feuilly's just about to ask what mostly means when the rest of their group come around the corner. It only takes Feuilly a few seconds to notice the blood coming from Bahorel's nose and the matching scrape on Enjolras' cheek. </p><p>Jehan squeaks and runs up to Bahorel, throwing his arms around her as soon as they meet. Feuilly hesitates before walking up to Enjolras, who waves as Feuilly gets closer.</p><p>"What happened?" Joly asks from behind. </p><p>"They came back," Bahorel says, her arm still around Jehan. "Whilst we were tearing down the posters, a group of men started causing trouble, yelling at us and trying to put them back up."</p><p>"So Bahorel tried to take them four on one," Combeferre adds drily, "and then obviously Enjolras joined in."</p><p>Feuilly looks back at Enjolras, the small trickle of blood high on his cheekbone. "Are you okay?" he asks softly. </p><p>"I'm fine," Enjolras says. He's wearing a mask- they all are- but Feuilly can see it in the crease of his eyes.</p><p>Bahorel turns to Combeferre. "Don't pretend you weren't also raring to go," she chastises. "That last punch you threw? Amazing. You gotta show me your technique."</p><p>"Yes, well," says Combeferre, flexing the knuckles of her right hand. "I wasn't going to let you get beat up, was I?"</p><p>"Children, children!" exclaims Courfeyrac, caught up with them from where he and Bossuet were stationed. "Let's not fight!"</p><p>"Where are they now?" asks Joly. "The people who put the posters up?"</p><p>"Ran off," Bossuet says. "Right when me and Courf showed up."</p><p>"I didn't even get to throw any punches," Courfeyrac mourns sadly. </p><p>Bossuet steps up to Courfeyrac and places an arm around his shoulders. "There's always next time," she consoles cheerfully.</p><p>"Hopefully there won't be a next time," says Feuilly. "Hopefully they'll stay away." Somehow his hand has found it's way to Enjolras'; he's not quite sure when it happened, but Enjolras' palm is warm against his and Enjolras is still smiling in that small, satisfied way.</p><p>"They will if they know what's good for them," Bahorel says lightly.</p><p>Enjolras nods. "If not, we'll come back," he says, eyes flitting to everyone in the group individually. They each nod in turn before heading back to the Musain. </p><p>It's not yet midnight, so the Musain is still open when they arrive. Hucheloup just smiles at them from the doorway, "any last orders?" she asks, and Feuilly slips upstairs with Enjolras whilst Bahorel tries to argue Joly into letting her order a beer because 'it was a bad punch, Jollly, I haven't even lost that much blood.'</p><p>Grantaire is already in the backroom when they arrive and he toasts his glass to them in greeting. "I put your pictures up on Twitter," he says once they're seated, "since I couldn't be there in person, I figured it was the least I could do, and as you were so kind to send them to me, I was prompt about it as well. I might not be able to make the effort myself but at least I can report on your efforts, and I even did a good job at imitating your revolutionary fervour," he nods to Enjolras, "with that raised fist emoji you like so much."</p><p>"Show me," Enjolras says, and Feuilly has to hide an amused smile at the way he asks it- not a question, but a demand, almost. </p><p>Grantaire blinks before he's risen out of his seat and handing his phone over to Enjolras carefully. Enjolras takes it and shows Feuilly</p><p>
  <strong>ABC @abcanarchism </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Fascism cannot be allowed to fester in our neighbourhoods. Long live the revolution!</em>
</p><p>Beneath it is a picture of the wall that they'd painted, next to a dark picture of Combeferre, face blurred out, defiantly tearing down a poster from a lamppost. </p><p>Enjolras hands it back with a smile that looks only a little bit strained. "Thanks, Grantaire," he says. Grantaire shrugs but Feuilly can tell he's beaming with the praise. </p><p>They debrief; Joly checks to make sure Bahorel's nose isn't broken whilst Combeferre cleans up the cut on Enjolras' cheek. "It's more like a graze, really," she says, tilting Enjolras chin up, "it won't scar."</p><p>"Shame," says Courfeyrac, coming to sit beside them and grinning, "I think Enjolras would look rather dashing with a scar. What do you think, Feuilly?"</p><p>Feuilly snorts, looking first to Courfeyrac and then to the drink in his hands before rolling his eyes. "I don't know what kind of weird kinks you have, Courf, but keep them to yourself."</p><p>Courfeyrac laughs loudly at Feuilly's cheek, then leans down to press a kiss against Enjolras' forehead. Combeferre curses as Enjolras is jostled with the movement, narrowly avoiding poking him in the eye as she cleans the scratch on his cheek.</p><p>They stay a little while afterwards and Feuilly settles into the contentment that only being in the company of his friends can bring. He thinks he'd be rather happy if he could just spend the rest of his life here, with these people, smiling and laughing and working towards a better future.</p><p>Unfortunately, the hour creeps up on them, and they leave once Hucheloup kicks them out at midnight. A few carry on to Grantaire's flat, but Feuilly and Enjolras respectfully decline the offer, citing work to catch up on and early starts. Courfeyrac makes a customary show of booing as they refuse but hugs them both tightly before they leave nevertheless. </p><p>The walk home is quiet, but not awkwardly so; Feuilly expects that they're both content to reflect upon the night in their own minds. </p><p>"Is your cheek okay?" Feuilly asks once they're inside. </p><p>Enjolras touches the side of his face lightly. "It's fine."</p><p>"Good," Feuilly says, determinedly not thinking about Courfeyrac and his comments. "Do you want tea?"</p><p>Enjolras grins. "Of course."</p><p>Amidst all the uncertainty of the past few weeks, Feuilly's feelings towards Enjolras have only solidified. They may not spend as much time together due to their busy schedules, but the moments they do manage to steal are of immeasurable importance to Feuilly. </p><p>He's reluctant to call it a crush, even though he doesn't have a better word for what it is. It doesn't feel like any crush Feuilly's ever had before. Enjolras isn't the be all and end all of his world, and he doesn't feel the need to impress him or act differently around him. Sure, sometimes his heart speeds up when Enjolras smiles at him or when they're touching (which is often, these days), but it lacks the usual feelings he associates with having a crush on someone. When he'd been with Michael, that was all it'd ever been- a crush where Feuilly had constantly felt nervous, even intimidated, aware of his every action and desperate to impress. It'd been exhilarating in a way that was exhausting, and when they'd broken up Feuilly hadn't even been able to feign heartbreak. </p><p>With Enjolras, it's different. Feuilly doesn't feel nervous around him, but safe. He can be himself around Enjolras and he feels perfectly comfortable doing so. Even when Feuilly allows himself to daydream about him and Enjolras, or simply doesn't catch himself in time, he never dreams about anything too far removed from what they already have. Sharing a flat, sharing space, sharing quiet mornings and quiet touches and radical ideas. Sure, he thinks about kissing Enjolras sometimes, about sitting a little closer, about other intimacies they could share- but other than those thoughts (which he trains hard to suppress,) there's nothing he doesn't desire which they don't already have.</p><p>He doesn't know what it means, and with the frantic pace of his life at the minute, he finds himself with barely any time to properly think it over, much less entertain any ideas about acting on it.</p><p>They have two weeks until balloting begins and a three week period in which to vote. Feuilly has been working almost non-stop since the decision to ballot was made but he's aware that there's still a long stretch to the finish line.</p><p>He talks to people at work, convinces them to at least vote in the strike action, even if they're not voting to pass it. He gets a few more of his co-workers to join the union, gets a few to sign up to newsletters. <em>A union is only as strong as its members</em>, he tells people. <em>The more of us there are, the stronger we are</em>, he repeats over and over again. <em>Unions have won us so many rights over the years, collective action can get us so many more,</em> he says it over and over again until his voice is hoarse. </p><p>Feuilly's warehouse isn't a big one; there can be less than five workers there at a time on quiet days, and probably less than forty of them overall. Most of them are on insecure contracts, which, aside from the obvious problems they've been having with the rota, also makes it hard to co-ordinate meetings. Not having a shift that overlaps with each of his co-workers means that organising is also supremely difficult, but Feuilly is determined to get around it; he starts his shift twenty minutes early so he can talk to more people, and he ends it twenty minutes late for the same reason. He uses their WhatsApp chat to co-ordinate group meetings between those of them involved in the union- a number which, to Feuilly's immense delight, is steadily increasing.</p><p>Marc and Marie become his biggest allies in campaigning for industrial action. Marc tells Feuilly to go home one day when he finds himself too tired to focus, slipping up on not one but two order lists. "I'll do your recruiting, alright?" Marc says as he ushers Feuilly towards the door at the end of his shift, "I can be bloody charming when I want to be, now get yourself home." Marie shows Feuilly her phone one day in the breakroom, the links and websites she's forwarded their co-workers about the industrial action, the resources she's been circulating around her networks. Feuilly's more grateful for the two of them than he knows how to say. </p><p>Enjolras encourages him at home, when Feuilly is too tired to do more than idly chat or watch a film without really watching it. He makes Feuilly's coffee in the morning more often than not, waking before him and having the kettle boiled for when he wakes up. </p><p>"You're a saint," he tells Enjolras one morning, their fingers brushing as Feuilly takes the mug. </p><p>Enjolras laughs and shakes his head, "I'm just trying to help."</p><p>"Mm-mm," Feuilly argues, his best attempt at dissent whilst he has a mouthful of coffee. "You're succeeding at helping."</p><p>Enjolras evidently knows when he's beat, for he doesn't push the point further. He takes Feuilly's mug out of his hands once he's finished drinking and loads it into the dishwasher. As Feuilly watches him fill the drawer, he realises that it's been a while since he's asked Enjolras about any of his own projects. </p><p>"Speaking of... I know I'm not the only one of us organising important things right now. How are things going with you? I realise I haven't asked in a while. "</p><p>Enjolras turns around, as if surprised. He shrugs, offering Feuilly a helpless smile. "All the organising I'm doing at the minute is still mostly logistical. It's important, yes- I wouldn't be doing it if I believed otherwise- but it's not immediate."</p><p>"Still," Feuilly persists, "You're always asking me about work- it's only fair."</p><p>"You're present for ABC meetings; you're already witness to most of what I do."</p><p>"Humour me," Feuilly asks. "How's the know your rights guide you and Baz are working on?" </p><p>Enjolras smiles, like he still doesn't agree with Feuilly but will go along with it. "Pretty good. Bahorel's great at putting legalese into simple terms, even if I do have to filter out some of her more inventive translations." He pauses, flashing Feuilly a wry smile, "Don't tell her I said that, obviously."</p><p>"Wouldn't dream of it," Feuilly promises. "I'm surprised she even agreed to help you, given the subject matter."</p><p>"I originally asked Courfeyrac, but after he almost burnt one of my textbooks, well. I still think it's somehow his doing that Bahorel agreed. I would have asked Marius but he's been absent from our meetings lately."</p><p>In truth, Marius has only ever been to a handful of ABC meetings and hasn't been seen at the Musain for the better part of a year, but Feuilly doesn't point this out. </p><p>"Besides," continues Enjolras, "I don't think Bahorel minds using her legal knowledge to work against the system- any excuse to tear down the law and all."</p><p>Feuilly grins, "who says you need an excuse?"</p><p>Enjolras laughs, and his laughter follows Feuilly into work that day, a smile playing upon his lips whenever he replays the sound in his mind.</p><p>Work is the same as usual. Feuilly moves boxes out of storage and checks them off his list; he prepares orders ready for delivery and takes them to the drop-off point; he sits on the customer service hotline for about an hour and takes his lunch break as soon as he's able to. </p><p>He's called over almost as soon as he steps foot in the breakroom, a shout of "hey, Feuilly!" that makes him turn his head in surprise. </p><p>It's Marie, waving him over enthusiastically, and Feuilly heads towards her after a seconds pause. </p><p>"Hi Marie," he says, "what's up?"</p><p>Marie smiles, "You know that piece I wrote for the local news on the ballot?"</p><p>Feuilly nods; it'd been an amazing piece and he'd told Marie as much when it was published. </p><p>"The editor got in touch again but they want a radio appearance this time; can I pass on your contact details?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, sure. You don't want to do it?"</p><p>Marie shakes her head. "I'm better with my keyboard than I am with my mouth," she laughs. "And you're union rep, so I figured you'd know a little bit more if they put you on the spot."</p><p>"I bet you'd be fine," Feuilly says, because Marie has proven that she's more than capable of convincing people through word of mouth.</p><p>She laughs him off again, "Even if I wanted too, I'm very busy at the minute."</p><p>Feuilly nods. "How are the kids?" he asks and Marie's face lights up as she recounts their latest adventures. </p><p>Half an hour passes quickly after that and Feuilly leaves Marie with his e-mail address and resigns himself back to the customer service line. </p><p>Despite having to use his Customer Service Voice for almost three hours straight (and why oh why does Paul insist on him working the desk when it's Feuilly's least favourite thing in the entire world?), Feuilly leaves in a tolerable mood. He manages to maintain it through a productive study session at the city library, and cycles to the Musain in good spirits, chaining his bike to the makeshift bike racks Hucheloup had installed specifically for their use. </p><p>Feuilly is early; he makes polite conversation with the bar staff for a while, all of whom praise him on the mural, having seen it on their time in the city and recognising the ABC tag. It's a few minutes later when the ABC regulars start to trickle in; first are Joly and Bossuet, Musichetta following closely behind them. Feuilly smiles as she comes over to greet him, having not seen her for a while. </p><p>"I finally got a night off work," she laughs as she joins Feuilly at his table, "can you believe it?"</p><p>They chatter as the room slowly fills with more people. Enjolras arrives at dead on 7pm, which makes Feuilly smile even though he tries to contain it. </p><p>They go over last week's action. Feuilly hasn't revisited the mural since that night, but Bahorel assures them it's still intact, passing her phone around for them all to see. Jehan asks if anyone would like to contribute anything to the next issue of the zine; Bossuet offers to write a piece about the hostile environment, and Enjolras suggests a protest rights feature, condensed from the guide him and Bahorel are working on. Combeferre updates them on the progress with the mutual aid group, claiming it'll only be a few weeks until it's up and running- just in time for the holidays, which sends a cheer up through the group. The mention of holidays gets Courfeyrac telling them about the work he's been doing to co-ordinate food distribution to the homeless population on and around the days surrounding the 25th. They make a quick rota for everyone- none of them actually celebrate Christmas and Jehan is the only one who's going home for winter break, so they easily fill the shifts between them. Even Grantaire puts his name down for a shift on Christmas Eve. </p><p>When all official business is done, Bahorel announces the date of her annual Not-a-Christmas party. It'll take place on the 27th December, the day Jehan arrives back in Leeds. </p><p>"That's too close to New Year's!" Courfeyrac complains. </p><p>Bahorel flips him off. "Never thought you'd be the one complaining about two parties the same week, Courf. Getting old?" </p><p>Courfeyrac raises his hands in surrender as the rest of them laugh. Even Enjolras has a little smirk on his face that only makes Feuilly's own grin widen when he catches sight of it.</p><p>"Is that it then?" Combeferre asks, "meeting over?"</p><p>Enjolras turns to Feuilly. "Unless Feuilly wants to update us on the ballot?"</p><p>"Sure," says Feuilly easily, straightening up now that eyes are on him. "It's going pretty well, I think the chances of passing ballot at my branch are good. I'll be going up to the depot in Bradford next week to speak to workers there as well. They have less union affiliated members but the people I've been in contact with are hoping to increase it before the ballot. Oh yeah, and I found out earlier that I'm going to speak on the radio sometime soon."</p><p>Feuilly hasn't even had chance to tell Enjolras that yet, but his voice joins the chorus of congratulations that ensues nevertheless. Times like these Feuilly is immensely grateful for the ABC's support, even if he wishes he could devote more of his time to their activities instead of being constanty torn between university and work obligations.  </p><p>He knows Enjolras would likely argue with him on that front, that he'd tell Feuilly he does more than enough for the ABC. But it still doesn't feel like enough, not when there's so much more he feels like he should be doing.</p><p>He gets roped into a conversation with Combeferre on the philosophy of collective action, and ends up staying far longer than usual. Enjolras is similarly preoccupied speaking to Joly, Bossuet, and Grantaire, so Feuilly decides that he can let himself indulge. </p><p>"-and obviously whilst there are instances where unions have gone against the law, it hasn't been for a while that a major union has had the resources or the power to do so, especially with increasing casualisation and diminished power in collective bargaining." Combeferre is saying, running her hands through her braids as she speaks.</p><p>Feuilly makes a noise of agreement. "As radical as the theory behind strike action is, I just wish there was a way to be more radical with its execution, you know? I'd love to embed principles of solidarity more firmly in society even when we're not striking, but with each new anti-union legislation that becomes increasingly difficult to sustain."   </p><p>Their conversation takes a detour through the Chilean labour movement and the Tolpuddle Martyrs before returning to Feuilly's concerns. </p><p>"I'm worried that I'm not doing enough," he admits. </p><p>Combeferre raises a single eyebrow. "You're doing a lot," she says, leaving no room for argument. It's the same response he expected from Enjolras, but hearing it from someone else is comforting all the same. "Change comes in waves, and you're riding a big one right now."</p><p>She's right, and Feuilly knows she's right, but it doesn't stop the itch under his skin when he turns up at work the next day and immediately finds himself at odds once more with Paul, who pesters Feuilly for information he doesn't have about the rota.</p><p>Enjolras left early that morning for a meeting with another social justice group across the city and Feuilly had slept through two alarms, so he's already in a bad mood when Paul approaches him. </p><p>"They want the time each individual clocked in and out of work," Paul says, and he does sound truly apologetic, but Feuilly is too annoyed for it to register. The stress of the past few weeks seems to have caught up with him, and he can already feel a headache building in his skull from the lack of coffee that morning.</p><p>"Why would I have that? That's on the company records."</p><p>"Some of the times don't match the person who your rota says should be on shift; it's invalid. We either fix the rota or the timecards, and since the timecards are in the system and therefore unchangeable, it's got to be your rota."</p><p>Feuilly rubs at his eyes, the pain in his head coming on bright and strong. "We swapped shifts last minute once or twice, that's probably all it is."</p><p>Paul hums. "Well, you'll have to match the times on our records to your rotas if you want them to backdate pay."</p><p>Feuilly knows it's not a threat, knows that Paul is only repeating what he's been told by HR but he tenses all the same. <em>Why can't you?</em> he wants to yell but manages to restrain himself, taking the rotas back from Paul with a forced smile. That's his break gone. </p><p>Feuilly needs to go to the library and study but his head is pounding by the time he clocks out of work. Paul calls him back to his office once he's officially done for the day and apologises for what he calls his 'harsh tone' earlier. Feuilly waves it off, musters up a smile, and hands him the corrected rotas.</p><p>Outside, he eyes his bike for a long time before deciding, <em>fuck it</em>, and walking to the bus stop instead. It means he'll have to get the bus in on Thursday and fork out the three quid for the fare, but he can't find it in himself to care. Let future Feuilly worry about it, he thinks warily as he climbs to the top deck. </p><p>Enjolras isn't in when he gets home, his bike absent from the hallway, so Feuilly writes him a note before retreating to his room. The bus ride back had felt like hell on his eyes, each stop and start making the pain in his head worse. </p><p>He wakes up to a soft knock at his door and must mumble a response, because there's footsteps, and then a cold hand at his forehead. </p><p>"You're warm," says Enjolras, quiet. </p><p>"Just a headache. It's a bit better now."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah. How was your meeting?"</p><p>Enjolras is knelt by Feuilly's side, and his hand has moved up from Feuilly's forehead to sweep the hair from his face. "It went well," he whispers. "Really positive."</p><p>"That's good."</p><p>"Are you hungry?"</p><p>Feuilly's not hungry, but he knows he should eat. He tells Enjolras as much and gets a hum in response.</p><p>"I'll heat up some soup?"</p><p>Feuilly wants to laugh; he has a headache, he's not ill, but Enjolras sounds so earnest that the laughter dies before it reaches his lips. "Yes, please."</p><p>"Okay. Ten minutes."</p><p>Feuilly nods and then Enjolras' hand is gone, followed by Enjolras himself. Feuilly's door clicks closed with a quiet sound and Feuilly is left alone with his thoughts until he finds the strength to pull himself into a sitting position. Enjolras has left him a glass of water on the bedside table and Feuilly sips at it as he readies himself to move. He still feels awful, but his headache is a lot more manageable than it'd been on the bus ride home. He's not about to make Enjolras feed him soup in bed so he struggles his way over to the kitchen. Enjolras is stirring a pan over the hob and smiles at Feuilly as he enters.</p><p>They eat in silence, and Feuilly remains amazed at Enjolras' ability to be graceful in almost every situation. There shouldn't be a person alive who is able to make slurping tomato soup seem an elegant affair and yet, somehow, he manages it. </p><p>Feuilly declines Enjolras' offer of coffee after they've finished, thanking him for the soup before opting to get a shower and return to bed. He has a day off from work tomorrow, although he still has to be in uni for ten am and straight to the Student's Union afterwards for his shift at the coffee shop. </p><p>Feuilly is exhausted and he wakes up not feeling particularly inclined to do either; however, he knows he must, so it's with a sigh he follows through with his morning rituals. If Enjolras notices his sour mood, he doesn't comment, but the hug he gives Feuilly before he leaves is longer than usual. </p><p>Feuilly is halfway down the stairs when he realises he doesn't have his bike. He swears and turns on his heel, back into their apartment. "Do you need your bike today?" he asks urgently, startling Enjolras.</p><p>"I have to be at Briggate later but I can take the bus. How come?" </p><p>"I left mine at work yesterday. I don't have time to get the bus."</p><p>"You can take mine," says Enjolras, because he's a saint. "Of course you can."</p><p>"Thank you so much," Feuilly says, "Seriously, I have to leave now, but thank you so much."</p><p>Enjolras just smiles at him, a little helplessly. "Don't mention it," he says when Feuilly is halfway out the door. </p><p>In his rush he neglects to remember his earphones and begrudgingly accepts that this is just going to have to be a journey without music. </p><p>His lecture goes well and he even finds himself in a tolerable enough mood to attempt a quick study session between his lecture and his shift at the coffee shop. His lectures are genuinely interesting, and Feuilly enjoys them, but lately he's finding it really hard to focus on academia when there's so much else happening in his life. He doesn't regret the decision to return to his studies, but he does wonder sometimes, if he'd choose the same where he to be given a fresh start. </p><p>His shift at the coffee shop, is predictably, very busy. It's almost exam season, after all, and most students rely on their caffeine fix to get through it- Feuilly knows he sure does. He makes coffee after coffee in the small square hut inside their Student's Union, watching as students gather to sit and chat in the communal space or take out laptops and attempt to work. He sighs as he cleans the machine at the end of his shift, thinking about all the work he'd rather be doing instead. </p><p>He returns Enjolras' bike to him that night, thanking him profusely to which Enjolras, predictably, brushes off. </p><p>"You feel better?"</p><p>"Yeah," Feuilly says, settling on the couch next to Enjolras later that night. "I think it was just stress."</p><p>Enjolras frowns. "Not burnout, right?"</p><p>Feuilly shakes his head, "Nah. Burnout's different. Like a loss of hope, almost. This is just... I don't know, feeling tired?"</p><p>"Hmm," says Enjolras, "I don't suppose there's anything I can do?" </p><p>He rests a hand on Feuilly's shoulder as he speaks and Feuilly moves to cover it with his own. "You do enough, and you know it," he replies. </p><p>Enjolras ducks his head. His hair is getting longer now and a few curls hang in front of his face. Feuilly brushes them away with his free hand. </p><p>The next few weeks pass by in a blur of activity; exam season officially arrives and both Enjolras and Feuilly begin working towards their finals. Even though Enjolras has almost double the work due to being in his final year of a law degree, Feuilly finds himself working just as much, caught between his university work and his near-constant campaigning for the strike action. </p><p>His meeting in Bradford goes well; he gets a lot of new organising contacts from the experience and promises to keep in touch. Michelle, the union representative there, isn't as optimistic about their chances to make ballot, so Feuilly promises to come back for a final push effort in two weeks, knowing as he does so that he doesn't really have the time. Nevertheless, a promise is a promise and this is one Feuilly intends to uphold. </p><p>He has videocall after videocall with representatives across the country, constantly relaying ideas to his workplace and back. Marc and Marie help him lead meetings within their workplace; co-ordinating a time to meet with everyone is supremely difficult, so they end up occuring in the half hour slots before or after work. Even then, it's a struggle. Eventually they emerge with a list of demands for the strike action, to be sent out with the official ballot slips when it opens next week. </p><p>He relays the demands to Enjolras and then the rest of the ABC once they've been finalised and sent out to members across the country. Full employment for those currently on insecure contracts, a more even workload, transparent routes to management, and autonomous hiring practices specific to each branch. Feuilly's overjoyed to see the inclusion of a demand to assess and address the gender and BAME pay gap between employees as well.</p><p>The news is met with cheers and almost every one of his friends extends the offer to buy him a pint in celebration. Feuilly wants to object, to point out that they haven't actually won anything yet, but Courfeyrac presses a glass into his hand and slaps him on the back, so Feuilly closes his mouth and lets himself enjoy the company of his friends. </p><p>Across the room, he catches Enjolras' eye and smiles.</p><p>The balloting opens the same day as Feuilly's first exam; he casts his ballot first thing in the morning and urges his coworkers to do so as well. </p><p>The start of exam season also sees him and Enjolras swap their early morning breakfasts for early morning study sessions, oftentimes repeating the process in the evening, choosing textbooks over TV shows. </p><p>Despite his workload, Feuilly manages to secure more shifts from the Student's Union, and continues to work at the warehouse in between studying and campaigning. Even if he can say with a small degree of certainty that he usually works the same shifts each week, just knowing that they're liable to change at any minute keeps him on edge. He continues working towards convincing his co-workers to vote in the ballot, reminding them to post their slips if they haven't done so already. Enjolras studies too, but he's also working on approximately a million different projects with other social justice groups across the city, as far as Feuilly can tell.</p><p>This has the effect that although they're both in the flat most days, they work in companionable silence, both too tired and too invested in their respective tasks for much outside communication. </p><p>One night Feuilly falls asleep in the middle of highlighting a chapter of his textbook. He wakes up the next day, neck stiff from having slept on the couch, but the soft feeling of Enjolras' red blanket having been laid on top of him at some point during the night. Feuilly fights the urge to bury his face in the fabric to contain his grin. </p><p>It's a relentless pace of studying and working and organising, and it often leaves him frustrated. Fortunately, Enjolras seems to know when Feuilly needs some space and is happy to give it to him, retreating to his room or spending the night at Courfeyrac's when their small flat becomes suffocating. Feuilly wishes he had the words to explain how much it means to him that Enjolras is not only always there for him, but also knows when he needs to be alone. </p><p>The radio interview is scheduled for the day before his second exam; Feuilly doesn't consider himself a particularly nervous person, but on the morning of the interview, he feels almost queasy thinking about it. He explains his concerns to Enjolras as he prepares to leave and Enjolras steps towards him as he stands in the doorway, moving his hands up to rest on Feuilly's shoulders.</p><p>"It's no different than addressing a crowd," Enjolras tells him as his hands move to straighten the tie Feuilly is wearing (which is technically Enjolras' tie, because Feuilly doesn't own a tie), "and I've seen your skill in that area; you were incredible at the rally last April. If there's one man I trust to persuade people of the importance of trade unions in 21st century, it's you, Feuilly." </p><p>"Thanks," Feuilly says sincerely. </p><p>After all, Enjolras says the words with such conviction that Feuilly finds himself almost incapable of not believing them. </p><p>Enjolras has a lecture and Feuilly has given him strict instructions not to bunk off for him ("Your attendance is atrocious, I honestly don't know why they still let you in class, to be honest"), So Courfeyrac accompanies him to the radio station instead. It helps to have someone so uncompromisingly cheerful along with him and it also helps that Courfeyrac is one of their few members of their little group to own a car. To Feuilly's surprise, when he approaches the silver Toyota Prius parked neatly at the curb, Marius stands waiting there as well. </p><p>"Hi, Marius," Feuilly greets, nodding to him. </p><p>"Hello, Feuilly," says Marius, a little bit stiffly. Feuilly smiles; Marius is an enigma to him, but he has a kind heart, so Feuilly is grateful for his support.</p><p>Courfeyrac grins, bouncing up to Feuilly and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Ready to take the local news by storm?" </p><p>Feuilly laughs to hide his nerves, knocking Courfeyrac's hand away. "I doubt I'll be taking anything 'by storm' in a ten minute interview segment, but sure."</p><p>"That's the spirit," Courfeyrac says cheerfully, climbing in to the drivers seat and gesturing for Feuilly and Marius to get in as well. </p><p>Neither of them can seem to reach a consensus on who gets to sit in the passenger side, leading to a rather awkward situation where they're side by side in the back of the car. Marius is a lovely person but Feuilly has always struggled to make conversation with him; as a result, the first few minutes of their journey consists of stilted small talk before Courfeyrac jumps in and does most of the work for them.  At Courfeyrac's prompting, Marius launches into an explanation of how a translation mishap at the journal he works for had almost seen him fired, and the story is so endearingly complicated that it takes Feuilly's mind off of his nerves for pretty much the entire journey. </p><p>"Ready?" Courfeyrac asks as he puts the car into park and the three of them climb out. The building in front of them is tall, almost intimidating. It's in the wealthy part of the city where skyscrapers make the space seem bigger somehow, and Feuilly feels so terribly out of place just looking at it, even in his more-smart-than-casual dress. </p><p>"Sure," Feuilly says, and steps inside. </p><p>The interior is no less intimidating, decorated in a colourful yet minimalistic way with a few plants dotted around here and there. Feuilly signs in at the reception desk; he gives his name, answers questions about why he's here, and signs when prompted. The receptionist leads them to a staircase and tells them they want the third floor, first door to the left. </p><p>When he steps inside the studio, the radio presenter greets Feuilly like they've known each other for years, and not merely exchanged a couple of e-mails. Courfeyrac and Marius are seated at the other side of a large glass panel as Feuilly is led into the recording room. There's a minute left of the ad break before they go live and Feuilly finds himself relax, a strange calm washing over him as he does as instructed and puts on the headphones. </p><p>And then they're live and Feuilly doesn't know exactly what happens, but words are leaping from his mouth as the remnants of his unease dissolves in the air around him. He explains the background to the strike, the national impact, the implications for the labour movement more widely. By the time the two minute warning sign flashes, Feuilly is astounded that it's already been eight minutes.</p><p>"One last question before we hop off air, Feuilly. Obviously strikes are fundamental to workers rights, but they're also a very controversial tactic. There are many who will feel inconvenienced by the impact of this strike especially, if it goes ahead, due to the timing- it's during the January sales, of course- does that worry you? What would you say to reassure people who are worried this might effect them?"</p><p>Feuilly takes a deep breath, Enjolras' words echoing in his head as he opens his mouth to speak. "The point of a strike is disruption," he begins. "As workers, that's the biggest tool in our arsenal, and when all else fails, it's what we have to resort to, regardless of how 'controversial' it may be or how inconvenient it is for people. If you want the strike to be over, if you want to limit that inconvenience faced, then support us. If you're angry- good! Take that anger, but instead of directing it at us, direct it at those who have the power to change it because this is their fault, not ours. At the end of the day, we just want our rights respected, and the more support we have behind us, the more likely we are to achieve that. Be vocal online and offline, don't cross the digital picket line, stand with us- the sooner our demands are met, the sooner we can return to normal."</p><p>In the corner of his vision, Feuilly can see Courfeyrac grinning and giving Feuilly two big thumbs up from the other side of the glass. Marius beside him is nodding his head at Feuilly very enthusiastically. </p><p>Feuilly exchanges pleasantries with the radio host once they're off-air before they're escorted back downstairs. His phone rings five minutes after they've left the building, when Courfeyrac is still singing his praises and Marius is in the middle of complimenting Feuilly's posture, of all things. </p><p>"Hang on a second," he tells them, smiling down at his phone, "it's Enjolras."</p><p>Marius stops talking and nods; Courfeyrac beams.</p><p>"Hello?" Feuilly asks once the call has connected. </p><p>"Hi," Enjolras' voice comes through the speaker, "I just heard you on the radio, you were amazing."</p><p>Feuilly wishes he could wipe the grin off his face, he really does, but it's seemingly stuck there, so he runs a hand through his hair instead. "I told you not to skip lectures for me."</p><p>"I'm not skipping," Enjolras replies quickly, "I'm going back in after this. I just wanted to say well done. It was an incredible interview. You spoke really well."</p><p>"Thank you. That means a lot, honestly." Before Enjolras can respond and dismiss it, Feuilly continues. "You really should get back to your lecture, though."</p><p>There's a laugh on the other end of the line. "Okay. What time will you be home later?"</p><p>"I have a meeting in about an hour but I'll be back for six."</p><p>"Okay. See you soon."</p><p>"See you soon. Bye." </p><p>Feuilly hangs up and puts his phone away, rolling his eyes when he comes face to face with Courfeyrac's gleeful grin and raised eyebrows. </p><p>"Oh, shut up," he says, but his own smile breaks out on to his face nevertheless. </p><p>"I didn't say anything!" Courfeyrac objects, laughing.</p><p>Next to them, Marius' eyebrows draw down in confusion. "What did Enjolras want?" he asks</p><p>Feuilly rolls his eyes at Courfeyrac before addressing Marius. "Just to congratulate me."</p><p>"Oh," Marius says, like that explains absolutely nothing. </p><p>Courfeyrac, the absolute traitor, glances at Feuily before addressing Marius, "Feuilly has a crush," he says conspiratorially. Feuilly feigns indignation, even though he doesn't particularly mind the teasing. He feels as if nothing could ruin his good mood right now.</p><p>Marius' eyes widen and then squint again in confusion. "A crush? But... I thought you were dating?"</p><p>The silence that follows is almost comical. Courfeyrac obviously thinks so, for after a brief pause, he starts laughing and doesn't stop for a long time. "Oh Marius, what are we going to do with you?" he asks once he's recovered, wiping an imaginary tear from his cheek. He turns to Feuilly. "Sorry, it's not funny really, it's just... well, it is a little bit funny."</p><p>Beside him, Marius is blushing red to his roots. "I shouldn't have said that." </p><p>Feuilly shakes his head. "It's fine," he says, even though he feels as if he's missed a step whilst climbing upstairs. "No harm done."</p><p>"I just thought that because you're close and you live together-" Marius stops speaking abruptly as Courfeyrac starts laughing again, the two of them obviously arriving at the same conclusion. </p><p>"Marius, is there something you'd like to tell me?"</p><p>"No," Marius says, and looks away.</p><p>"Perhaps this is a conversation you need to have with your girlfriend first?"</p><p>As if certain that he's being made fun of, Marius refuses to say any more. Courfeyrac continues to tease him, throwing an arm around Feuilly as they walk back to the car. Feuilly is grateful for the respite; he's not sure he could handle being the subject of attention right now. Marius thought him and Enjolras were dating? Feuilly doesn't even know how to process that, still high on the success that had been the radio interview and Enjolras' phonecall. <em>Later</em>, he tells himself firmly, allowing himself to be nudged into the car.</p><p>Despite the absolute whirlwind of emotion that has been his morning so far, the rest of his day goes well. Courfeyrac had insisted on driving him to the warehouse for his meeting, and it'd only been slightly awkward sitting in the back with Marius again. The meeting is a success; it's the first time they've properly been together outside of work hours, and Marie is facilitating a discussion about how to better communicate demands to their employers. With only a week left until the ballot closes, tensions are high as ever as they discuss what resources they'd need if the strike goes ahead, what picketing would look like for them. Even Paul attends, though he makes it clear to Feuilly where he stands on the strike action once the meeting is officially over. Feuilly leaves in high spirits and with even higher hopes and it's not until later that night that he even remembers Marius' words, or why they'd surprised him so much.</p><p>He gets a text from Courfeyrac once he's at home, bundled up next to Enjolras on the sofa. Feuilly has just finished telling him about the meeting and they're watching another documentary to celebrate the radio interview going well. Enjolras had picked up some vegan ice cream on his way home and they're eating it straight from the tub like children. It's one of the few nights that Feuilly hasn't spent either studying or chasing up various work-related things, and he's incredibly grateful for the break. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he shifts against Enjolras to retrieve it. Feuilly sees Courfeyrac's name on his screen and opens the message, which simply says:<em>congrats again on the radio interview! just a reminder that my emotional support hotline service is available 24/7 xxx </em>Feuilly smiles reading it, shaking his head. It's a sweet offer really, but Feuilly is okay; he replies quickly and gets a smiley face in response.</p><p>"Who's that?" asks Enjolras, taking another bite of his ice cream.</p><p>"Courfeyrac. Asking how the meeting went."</p><p>Enjolras hums in response and Feuilly decides, <em>fuck it</em>.</p><p>"That reminds me," he says,  "did you know Marius thought we were together?"</p><p>Enjolras removes the spoon that's hanging from his mouth and stares at Feuilly for a few seconds. "Together?" he asks.</p><p>"Yeah. Like, dating."</p><p>"Oh," Enjolras says, looking down into his icecream. He's quiet for a while before he speaks again. "No, I didn't. I thought Marius knew..." Enjolras trails off, his brows knitting together. "Well, I guess it makes sense."</p><p>Feuilly turns to look at him. "It does?"</p><p>"Yeah," Enjolras shrugs, "Marius doesn't see us as often as the rest of the ABC, we live together, we're really close friends, he must hear me talk about you when I go to Courf's... I can see how he'd arrive at that conclusion."</p><p><em>Can you?</em> Feuilly wants to ask. </p><p>"Friends can be close without having to be in a relationship," he says instead.</p><p>Enjolras meets his eyes. "They can," he says, "of course they can. But it can also indicate something different, even if equal in intensity- in which case Marius would be excused for making assumptions. Just like you'd be forgiven for thinking Bahorel and Jehan were together if you didn't know them very well."</p><p>Feuilly chuckles lightly. "I still think there's something going on between them," he mutters.</p><p>"Bahorel has a girlfriend."</p><p>"Who said their relationship is monogamous?"</p><p>Enjolras smiles. "Fair enough," he relents, leaning further into Feuilly's side. "Regardless, I know Marius is smart, but he doesn't always pay that much attention to his surroundings. He's also very heterosexual."</p><p>Feuilly laughs, and their conversation trails off. He tries to settle once more into the comforting pressure of Enjolras' weight against him, but his mind is restless. He can't stop thinking about Marius' assumption, and now, the seeming ease with which Enjolras had responded. It sits heavily in his mind until it's all he can think about, along with the various what-if scenarios that accompany it.</p><p>There are so many uncertainties regarding his relationship with Enjolras at the minute, and if it were a less stressful time in Feuilly's life, he might be more proactive in seeking to clear them up. As it is, he tries his hardest to be content in their current form of friendship, conscious of the toll his organising is taking on him and aware that, even if he were to act on his feelings and Enjolras somehow returned them, he doesn't have as much time as he'd like to start exploring a new relationship dynamic. </p><p>The next week comes and goes in a blur; Feuilly tries to push all thoughts of him and Enjolras being in a relationship far out of his mind as they make a final push for strike action. </p><p>He goes to Bradford again; Michelle welcomes him with a hug and lets him sit in on their meeting, after which he talks to a group of people who are self-described as 'on the fence' about voting. The conversation goes well, he thinks, and if Michelle's grin is anything to go by, she thinks so as well.</p><p>"We've gained more support over the past few weeks," she confides in him afterwards. "A lot of people were persuaded by the demands and the timing. I don't know if it'll work out yet, but I'm hopeful."</p><p>Feuilly remembers her words and the hope on her face when she'd spoken them as he goes about the rest of his week.</p><p>He studies. He goes to work. He sits close to Enjolras as they watch TV. He texts Courfeyrac. He tries not to think about his more-than-a-crush or what will happen if they don't pass threshold.</p><p>All too soon, life catches up with him. Feuilly's last exam is on the same evening they find out the results of the strike ballot and he hasn't been able to focus all day, last efforts to study all but abandoned. His exam starts as the sun begins to set and Feuilly is jittery with nerves as he waits outside the exam hall, struggling to keep his thoughts on the course content instead of the outcome of the ballot.</p><p>He's checking the WhatsApp group as soon as he's allowed his phone back after the exam, holding his breath as he waits for the messages to load.</p><p>They do, and then he's cycling home as fast as he can, practically ecstatic with glee.</p><p>"Enjolras!" he yells once he's through the door, practically bursting with energy, "Enjolras!" </p><p>Enjolras looks up as soon as Feuilly steps inside, sat on the floor in puddle of books and highlighters. Enjolras' last exam isn't until Monday but Feuilly knows he won't mind being interrupted. Not for this. </p><p>"It passed!" he yells excitedly, forgetting to temper his volume. "The ballot passed!"</p><p>Enjolras doesn't react for a second but then he's on his feet and engulfing Feuilly in a hug. It's more forceful than Enjolras' usual hugs and Feuilly is knocked back for a second before gripping him back just as tight. </p><p>When Enjolras pulls back he's beaming, radiant in the crappy lighting of their apartment. "I knew it would," Enjolras says, squeezing Feuilly's arm, "I knew you could do it."</p><p>Feuilly laughs, taking Enjolras' hand and intertwining it with his own. "It wasn't just me," he says, "we're only one branch, after all. This was everyone, almost every branch over the country, it means we passed threshold!"</p><p>Enjolras has that blinding smile again as he moves forward to hug Feuilly once more, their hands still joined. It makes Feuilly laugh again, delighted, as he wraps his arms around Enjolras and buries his face in his shoulder. </p><p>"Thanks for helping me through it," he mumbles, "couldn't have done it without you."</p><p>Enjolras doesn't need to say anything for Feuilly to hear his protestations so he hastily pulls back and, surprising even himself, places a finger upon Enjolras' lips. Enjolras' eyes widen but he doesn't move. </p><p>"You help me more than you know, Enjolras. You've been so supportive these past few weeks and I genuinely don't think you realise how much you mean to me."</p><p>Feuilly moves his finger, watching as Enjolras' eyes follow it, his tongue darting out between his lips to wet them. Neither of them speak. Feuilly swallows. It would be so easy, so so easy, to just lean in and-</p><p>Instead, Enjolras reaches out and places a hand on Feuilly's shoulder. "You're an incredible person, Feuilly," he says, with that familiar small smile. "You help me too. I'm really grateful to have someone like you in my life."</p><p>The glowing feeling in Feuilly's chest is back again and, in a rush of daring, he gently lifts the hand that's on his shoulder, bringing it to his lips instead and pressing a light kiss against Enjolras' knuckles. </p><p>"Feuilly," Enjolras says softly, and it almost sounds like a question. </p><p>Feuilly lowers Enjolras' hand, still cradling it to his chest. </p><p>He doesn't know how to properly convey the extent of his emotion; there's so much he wants to say to Enjolras, but part of him knows it's not the right time and the other part doesn't even know where to start. </p><p>Enjolras seems to understand anyway. After a few seconds have passed his expression clears and he nods, squeezing Feuilly's hand before letting go. Feuilly offers him a smile and is relieved beyond measure when Enjolras returns it. </p><p>"Coffee to celebrate?" Enjolras asks. </p><p>Feuilly laughs. "Do you even have to ask?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More notes!</p><p>1) 'Power to the people/death to the fascists' is a slogan on a badge I own (made by the radical badge company, who are great) and I thought it would make a good mural :)<br/>2) I debated for what must have been hours whether to change it to Mrs Hucheloup or keep it as Madame Hucheloup or go with Mother Hucheloup and no option seemed to work so for now she exists as just Hucheloup.<br/>3) Combeferre and Feuilly's discussion (and Feuilly's reply to the radio host) are based on passages from the book 'Why You Should Be A Trade Unionist' by Len McCluskey (current leader of the UK Trade Union Council) in which he talks about the future of the UK labour movement, which is super interesting!<br/>4) The Tolpuddle Martrys were a group of men convicted for being part of a secret society (the friendy society of agricultural workers) and basically attempting to unionise in the UK in 1834, and they're often credited with being the foundation of the UK trade union movement.<br/>5) Bradford is a smaller city right next to Leeds so that's why Feuilly goes to visit the workers there!</p><p>Thanks for reading! The next chapter should be up sooner than this one was! Comments are, as always, extremely welcome :D</p><p>Also: quick plug for the <a href="https://www.bishopmyrielfundraiser.tumblr.com">Bishop Myriel fundraiser</a> over on Tumblr! A lot of fandom creators are offering content in exchange for donations to racial justice organisations and bail funds/legal funds following the Black Lives Matter protests! Check it out + donate if you can!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The whole workplace is buzzing with energy; as tired as he often feels when at work, Feuilly can't deny that there's something almost electric about the atmosphere in the warehouse. Things are taking off in the run up to the winter-break and when they return, it'll be to picket lines. Feuilly is busy preparing for the upcoming strike action, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he could just sit Enjolras down and tell him everything, to confess every last thought and feeling. </p><p>Besides, the more he allows himself to think about it, the more he could swear Enjolras feels the same way.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi again! Sorry for the wait, life finally caught up with me these past few weeks which made finding time for editing harder. This is the penultimate chapter and starts to tie a lot of things up as well as being the closest this fic gets to angst! (It's not that bad, I promise. It barely even counts as angst.)</p><p>Thanks so much for reading! It's crazy to me that this fic is almost done!</p><p>CW: drinking (both casual and excessive), vomiting (it's not described, just mentioned, but thought I'd be safe)<br/>- If you want to avoid either/both lmk and I can tell you which parts to skip!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's been almost three weeks since the ballot passed. In that time, Feuilly has successfully arranged a strike fundraiser, attended several more union meetings, and made numerous connections to other trade unions in the city.</p><p>Even though he doesn't have exams to worry about anymore, he still finds himself almost perpetually busy, running errands, making phonecalls, busying himself with e-mails and press releases and WhatsApp messages.</p><p>It's a lot of work, but he knew it would be. His list of responsibilities seems never-ending, two more tasks popping up every time he checks one off. He finds himself with very little free time- something which has never bothered him that much before, but he mourns now, for it means an end to his early morning and late night conversations with Enjolras. </p><p>In a swift reversal of their routine just a few months ago, it's now Enjolras who coaxes Feuilly into taking breaks. Never long breaks, and never anything that distracts or detracts from the issues at hand, but reminders to step back and breathe every once on a while. Enjolras, who has never been known for his aesthetic appreciation, has taken to cajoling Feuilly into ten minute walks through the park or pulling him outside for a few moments of fresh air. Considering Feuilly spends most of his free time hunched over on his laptop, the change of scenery is very much appreciated.</p><p>Then there's the coffee; Enjolras will take it upon himself to make Feuilly coffee whenever they're sharing the kitchen space together. Joly had chastised Enjolras for 'enabling' Feuilly's coffee habit at the last ABC meeting, but neither Enjolras nor Feuilly paid his words any concern.</p><p>It's a good job too, because Feuilly isn't sure how he'd be able to function if it weren't for the caffeine.</p><p>Fortunately, Jehan also seems to understand Feuilly's maybe slightly unhealthy caffeine problem, for his first act upon welcoming Feuilly into his flat is to offer him a cup of coffee.</p><p>His second is to interrogate Feuilly about his intentions. "I do hope you didn't come because you felt obligated to," Jehan says as they both sit cross-legged on the floor. </p><p>Feuilly doesn't answer straight away. He'd promised Jehan last week that if he found a spare moment he'd help with the next issue of the zine, despite Jehan's insistence that there was no rush. After finishing early for once, Feuilly had texted Jehan to say he was on his way, and then cycled to Jehan's apartment instead of going straight home. He doesn't know how to properly express that he'd felt like he needed to do this; not only to be useful to the ABC in some tangible way, but also to focus on something that isn't related to the upcoming strikes.</p><p>The silence lingers for a while whilst Feuilly tries to think of an answer that's both honest yet won't make Jehan worry about him. Jehan goes back to the piece he's writing in the meantime, giving Feuilly time to muddle it out in his own mind. "Is this legible?" Jehan asks a minute later, turning the paper around. </p><p>Feuilly leans over to look, Jehan's purposefully messy but still legible handwriting standing out in black ink. "It is," he confirms. And then- "I didn't feel obligated to come here, but I have been feeling too caught up in work lately- I thought it might let me have a break but still feel productive. Also, I really wanted to do something with my night other than respond to e-mails for once."<br/>
<br/>
Jehan makes a sound that could be agreement. "In that case, I'm glad I could save you from that abominable fate."</p><p>"I don't know where I'd be without you." </p><p>"At home, of course. Responding to e-mails." Jehan is smiling, when Feuilly looks up at him. "Surely Enjolras would also spare you that misery, if you asked?"</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "Oh, he would," If he phrased it as a request for Enjolras' help, he's pretty sure Enjolras would agree to anything. "But I get incredibly antsy if I'm in a position where I could be doing something productive and I feel like I'm not. I wouldn't be able to focus if I knew my laptop was in the other room."</p><p>"Ah," Jehan says, nodding. "That makes sense." He waits a second, pen hovering over paper before he continues. "You're taking care of yourself though, right?"</p><p>Feuilly laughs. "I'm trying to," he says, then shakes his head. "No, I am. Getting a full eight hours of sleep and everything." </p><p>"Good," Jehan says decisively, pulling his laptop over to type something up. He peers at Feuilly over the top of the screen. "If you ever need anything, you know the whole ABC is behind you."</p><p>Feuily smiles. He doesn't know how he ended up with such incredible friends, he really doesn't. "I know," he says, instead of admitting to the wealth of emotion stirring in his chest. "Enjolras won't let me forget."</p><p>"Good," Jehan says again. "Because it's true."</p><p>Feuilly smiles and dips his head, concentrating once more on his sketch. It's a simple profile of a protestor, coloured using Jehan's fancy watercolour pencils. There's another reason Feuilly enjoys working on the zine with Jehan and it's because Jehan has materials that Feuilly can only dream of; even though he's not as hard up as he once was, he's never quite been able to justify spending money on what is essentially just a hobby. (Jehan's watercolour pencils are almost enough to make him reconsider.)</p><p>The sketch is intended to accompany the feature Enjolras and Bahorel had written about protest rights, and Feuilly picks out a few choice sentences from their article to surround the protestor, creating a frame of words. He's using a photo of Bossuet as a reference image, even though she won't be identifiable to anyone except their group once he's done. Jehan peers over Feuilly's shoulder a few minutes later and smiles. "It looks great," he says. "Really captivating."</p><p>They don't finish the zine but Feuilly promises to make some time next month, after the strikes, to which Jehan shakes his head and tells him not to worry. Feuilly cycles back as the sky turns dark, making it inside just before the sun disappears completely. </p><p>Enjolras isn't home yet so Feuilly wastes no time in immediately going for his laptop, intending to compose a quick e-mail before he eats.</p><p>It feels like only minutes have passed when a cup of coffee is placed in front of him, startling Feuilly so badly he almost falls sideways off of his chair. He looks up to find Enjolras staring back at him, eyebrows slightly raised. He's already wearing comfy looking pyjamas and Feuilly frowns.</p><p>"When did you get home?" he asks</p><p>Enjolras takes the seat opposite Feuilly. "About twenty minutes ago. I went straight for a shower, though- got caught in the snow."</p><p>A look at the clock tells Feuilly it's been almost two hours since he first sat down. Huh. "I didn't hear you come in."</p><p>Enjolras raises his eyebrows further. "I think," he says, pushing Feuilly's coffee further towards him, "you need to take a break."</p><p>Feuilly considers the word document in front of him- a letter to the other trade unions in the city, inquiring about any financial help they'd be willing to offer- and sighs. The letters blur slightly in front of him and Feuilly squeezes his eyes shut, just for a second.</p><p>"I think you're right."<br/>
<br/>
Enjolras nods, reaching over to clasp Feuilly's hand. Feuilly smiles as he turns their palms together, content to just sit with the comfort for a few minutes. Enjolras, it appears, has other ideas. Feuilly half thinks Enjolras is going to drag them out on a walk again before his brain catches up to him; Enjolras doesn't particularly care for fashion but even so, wandering outside in a snowstorm wearing nothing but pyjamas seems ill-advised.</p><p>Instead of the door, Enjolras tugs him up out of his seat and over to the window. </p><p>"First snow," Enjolras says, and Feuilly brings his free hand up against the cold glass, watching it fall gently but persistently, gathering on the floor in inches. </p><p>Feuilly is stood close enough to Enjolras that he can hear his steady breaths beside him, still hand in hand. He takes a minute to mourn the loss of seeing Enjolras when he first got in, bundled up in winter gear and flakes of snow in his curls (for he always refuses to wear a hat) melting fast upon entering their apartment.</p><p>"Looks like I'll be getting the bus to work tomorrow," Feuilly remarks.</p><p>Enjolras hums. "I'm going to ask Courfeyrac if we can try and co-ordinate more shifts to get out and distribute supplies to those still on the streets. I imagine emergency weather provision will be in place, but still. There are those the system misses."</p><p>Feuilly nods, clasping Enjolras' hand tighter. "That's a good idea." </p><p>They stay a few moments more, silently staring out at the dim glow of the city below, the persistent fall of snow.</p><p>Eventually, Feuilly disentangles their hands with a sigh, walking back over to the table. </p><p>Enjolras follows him, letting his hands fall on Feuilly's shoulders when Feuilly sits down. "Are you still working on the e-mail?" he asks.</p><p>Feuilly nods. "Yeah. I had a call from a representative from the TUC earlier, she's gonna forward it to other unions, see what help we can get."</p><p>Enjolras squeezes Feuilly's shoulders. "Let me know if you need any help," he says, as he always does. "I'm going to make some quick calls. Don't forget to eat- I made too much dahl yesterday so there's a portion in the fridge if you want it."</p><p>"Okay," Feuilly says. "Thanks. Goodnight."</p><p>Enjolras smiles. "Goodnight."</p><p>He leaves, the door to his bedroom closing with a soft 'click'. Feuilly smiles.</p><p>He finishes the e-mail quickly, heating up the dahl afterwards before he calls it a day. It's good and he makes a mental note to tell Enjolras so in the morning. </p><p>Something draws him back towards the window before he retreats to bed and he finds himself once again looking out to the snow outside. It's stopped falling as heavily now, but it looks as though it'll set overnight- he's definitely going to have to get the bus into work tomorrow. </p><p>He presses his hand back against the cool glass, in imitation of his position earlier. Enjolras has been devoting a lot of his time to making sure Feuilly takes breaks recently. It feels strangely intimate, when he takes Feuilly's hand and leads him away from his work for a few minutes; a respite Enjolras almost never allows himself but strives to make sure Feuilly accepts. </p><p>He still graces Feuilly with his smiles, still presses Feuilly's hand when Feuilly gets discouraged about the upcoming strike, still spends the few mornings they're able to share together ranting about his Twitter feed. Nothing dramatic has changed between them since the day the ballot passed, and yet Feuilly feels like everything has.  </p><p>He lets his forehead rest against the glass a second later, his breath making condensation appear on the surface. </p><p>Feuilly's feelings towards Enjolras certainly haven't changed. Every day, the urge grows to simply sit Enjolras down and tell him everything, to confess every last thought and feeling. Feuilly has played the conversation out in his head so many times that it's easy to envision Enjolras' reactions, his words, the possible outcomes.</p><p>The thing is, the more he allows himself to think about it, the more Feuilly could swear Enjolras feels the same way. He's always been tactile, but lately even more so, even by Enjolras standards. They clasp hands regularly now and it's not abnormal to find them sat pressed together on the couch, or with their heads in each others laps. They'd held hands, the night of the graffiti, and many more times since then. Enjolras is constantly touching Feuilly in small ways that light up his heart.</p><p>He's not sure if its wishful thinking or not, but Feuilly is almost convinced that Enjolras would be, if not fully, then at least partially receptive to Feuilly's feelings. It's in their physical interactions with each other, but it's also so much more than that. </p><p>If only Feuilly knew how to approach it; if only these feelings could have made themselves known at a time when everything else in his life didn't feel like utter chaos. </p><p>Feuilly sighs and pulls away from the glass, casting one last glance out at the now-settled snow before retreating into his room.</p><p>In the coming days Feuilly attends even more union meetings; he speaks to his coworkers, he speaks to Paul, and the rush to get everything organised before the winter break lends a frantic air to his shifts. </p><p>The whole workplace is buzzing with energy; as tired as he often feels when at work, Feuilly can't deny that there's something almost electric about the atmosphere in the warehouse. He's always been friendly with his co-workers, even the ones he doesn't know as well or hasn't been on shift with before- but it feels different now. He swaps smiles with almost everyone he comes into contact with, exchanging greetings and pleasantries and idle chatter about the upcoming holidays, or the strike thereafter. It's nice. </p><p>Marie has been left in charge of recording their funds, reporting to Feuilly every other day or so so he can send it upwards to the union office. "The fundraiser really helped," she says in the break room one day. "We should have enough for everyone who needs it to claim a few days worth of pay, at least."</p><p>Feuilly welcomes the news happily. "That's after what we put aside for printing costs?"</p><p>"Yeah," Marie smiles at him. "I know, right? We might even be able to raise more if we do another donations drive."</p><p>Feuilly doesn't know if there's time between now and the holidays to hold another fundraiser, but he nods anyway. It's not impossible. "Something to raise at the next meeting?"</p><p>"Definitely."</p><p>Feuilly smiles, his chest thrumming with an excitement that even manages to withstand an hour working the customer service desk. </p><p>They have regular meetings every week; despite the hardship that had been organising the rota, Feuilly has tried to keep meetings fairly consistent. Turnout varies week to week, and none have been as populated as their initial meeting, but he's satisfied with their progress nevertheless. Minutes are sent out to everyone afterwards and there always seem to be enough people present who are willing to divide tasks between them- he can't ask for much more.</p><p>The preparations loom over them, but Feuilly can't stop thinking about how this will all be over in less than a month; the strike, which still seems so distant, will have come and gone, the outcome probably known. There are already whispers of their employers entering into negotiations with the union and it's enough to make Feuilly hopeful, even if he's cautious in how he expresses that hope, careful not to let it take hold. It's a strange thought, victory, and one he feels as if he can't process, when he looks around and sees all the work that is yet to be done.</p><p>(In reality, Feuilly knows that this fight won't end when the strike does. So few struggles ever do, and there'll always be something else to fight for a little further down the line. There have been people fighting for workers rights long before Feuilly was born and there will be people continuing to fight for it long after he's dead.</p><p>With the smiling faces of his co-workers fresh in his mind, the thought only emboldens him.)</p><p>Later that night, Feuilly sits in his regular spot in the Musain, invested in a different type of fervour. Courfeyrac finalises the schedule for distribution of resources to the rough sleeping community, after having altered it to begin next week at Enjolras' prompting. They pack bags as they chatter, using supplies that have been accumulated over the past couple of weeks. Feuilly hasn't been too involved in the project, but he gathers that the items have been acquired through a combination of charming local supermarkets into donating, funds taken from the mutual aid group, and plain old theft. </p><p>("Not theft," Jehan had corrected, unloading a dozen packets of cough drops out of his bag, "redistribution.")</p><p>As they work, the conversation turns to what resources they can provide Feuilly and his workplace.</p><p>"Can you use smoke grenades on a picket line?" Joly is asking. "Like, is it legal?"</p><p>"Jolllly, you are literally handling stolen good right now. When was the last time any of us gave a fuck about the law?" laughs Courfeyrac.</p><p>"You're a<em> lawyer</em>, Courf," says Grantaire accusingly as Bahorel makes retching noises behind him. Courfeyrac flips them off.</p><p>"We give a fuck about the law when it's Feuilly's job," Enjolras' voice cuts in sharply.</p><p>Courfeyrac nods, miming zipping his mouth and tossing the key over his shoulder. Combeferre leans forward, pretending to catch the imaginary key and put it in her pocket.  </p><p>Feuilly sighs. "You know I don't have any qualms about breaking the law," he says, earning him a chuckle from almost everyone, "the amount of time I've spent in police cells with the lot of you can attest to that. But this is a legal strike, and it's not just me affected, so I'm afraid it'll have to be tamer than our usual activities."</p><p>"This isn't anything to do with the ABC," Enjolras points out, quick to defend Feuilly even if Feuilly suspects he doesn't really need it- their friends understand. "We're going to vocally support any strike action and we'll visit the pickets in solidarity, but we're not involved outside of that capacity."</p><p>"Which means no causing trouble with the police," says Combeferre evenly, looking pointedly at Bahorel, who clutches her chest as if to say '<em>who, me?</em>'</p><p>"There'll be plenty of cops to argue with at the counter-rally next month," Enjolras says consolingly. </p><p>And with that the meeting moves on seamlessly to plans for the rally.</p><p>They decide to leave it up to Feuilly whether or not to use the smoke grenades and Feuilly makes a mental note to ask his coworkers opinions. It's frustrating having to go through more channels than usual instead of just... doing something, but this is important. Every step in the right direction is important, especially when it's something so close to home. Maybe Feuilly's not planning at working at the warehouse forever, but some of his co-workers could be. This is important for them, and it's important on a larger scale.</p><p>The holidays arrive in what feels like no time, and with them, Feuilly's first week off in months. He arrives for his last day of work on the 23rd December and hums to himself whilst he works his shift. They've been playing the same god-awful Christmas album for almost three weeks straight in the warehouse and it usually makes Feuilly grate his teeth together. Today, the mere knowledge that it's the last time he'll have to listen to it makes the experience almost enjoyable.</p><p>Marc catches him jigging his shoulders to the beat of 'Santa Baby' whilst he's labelling orders for delivery and laughs brightly. "Finally feeling the Christmas spirit?" he asks. </p><p>"Hardly," Feuilly snorts in response, "feeling the 'work is almost over for the year' spirit, maybe."</p><p>"Just think, next time we return, it'll be on the pickets."</p><p>Feuilly laughs along with him before they both carry on with their respective tasks. A few of them have been organising a trip to the pub later on to celebrate; Feuilly's pretty tired but it'd feel wrong not to attend. He ends up sandwiched between Marie and Leon, a smaller man closer to Feuilly's own age who's been fairly active in the union recently. He sips at his cider whilst next to him Leon nurses a beer and Marie a glass of water. It's a nice evening, even though Feuilly limits himself to a few drinks. He's been talking to Leon for quite a while, discussing the importance of trade unions taking up the fight for migrant rights, when a silence falls around the table. Feuilly stops halfway through his sentence and frowns. Leon just grins in response and Feuilly looks around, confused. </p><p>"What's going on?" he asks.</p><p>"We got you a present," Marc's voice is the first to speak. "A thank you, for all the work you've been doing. A few of us chipped in." </p><p>Feuilly blushes bright red, a combination of the alcohol and the multiple pairs of eyes turned on him. "You really didn't need to-" he starts but is cut off with a wave of cheers as Marie produces a giftbag from seemingly nowhere and hands it to him with a grin. He tries not to feel self-conscious as he takes it.</p><p>If Feuilly were feeling more eloquent, he might attempt a speech about how it's not just his efforts that have brought them here, but their collective efforts as a union, that each and every one of them has been instrumental in getting them to where they are now. He thinks Enjolras would probably say that, but he's interrupted before he can even begin, a few of his colleagues chanting 'open it!' and leaving him no choice. </p><p>"Okay, okay!" says Feuilly, laughing. "I will."</p><p>Inside is a box of Christmas-themed biscuits and a mug that reads 'SOLIDARI-TEA' on the front in large red letters. Feuilly knows he must be grinning like an idiot, and he can barely mutter a thanks, hiding his face behind his hands for a second whilst he composes himself.</p><p>"You like it?" asks Marc once Feuilly has emerged.</p><p>Feuilly smiles. "I love it."<br/>
<br/>
The night progresses smoothly from there; Feuilly doesn't have more than two drinks, but he still leaves the small pub with high spirits and a slight buzz in his head. He doesn't catch Enjolras when he gets in, for it's past midnight, and it's only twenty minutes later until he manages to fall asleep himself.</p><p>It's strange, at first, not waking up to an alarm; Feuilly sleeps in until noon on the 24th, making Enjolras laugh when he enters the kitchen at 3pm in his pyjamas. They drink tea and coffee, Feuilly out of his new mug (Enjolras had laughed for a solid five minutes when Feuilly had shown him it) and later on they order Thai food. For once Feuilly doesn't feel the pressure of work weighing down on his shoulders or the need to dash into the other room to grab his laptop. He suspects it won't last; that his urgency will return to him once the novelty has worn off, but for now, it's enough to watch Netflix on the couch next to Enjolras and let all his responsibilities hover just out of reach. </p><p>The day ends almost as soon as it began, and Feuilly wakes up to the sound of birds the next morning. </p><p>Although December 25th doesn't have any particular meaning attached to it for either of them, there's still something special about the day; it's as if the whole city has decided to sleep in. They wake around midday and go for a walk along the river; it's not snowing anymore, but it's still cold enough to warrant a hat and gloves. When Feuilly's hand ends up in Enjolras', it feels natural. Enjolras swings their hands as they walk, smiling to himself softly. Feuilly steals glances from the corner of his eye and struggles to keep his own grin underway. </p><p>They still don't speak about it, but Feuilly wonders if they really need to; they do, after all, seem to be on the same page. He thinks back to the night the ballot passed; Enjolras, on the verge of asking a question, accepting Feuilly's dismissal. It's with a sudden rush of determination that Feuilly resolves himself to say something soon- perhaps after the strikes. </p><p>When they get back inside, it's to the blessing of a warm apartment and they spend the day sat quietly next to each other, reading.</p><p>When five pm rolls around, Enjolras sighs, withdrawing his phone from his pocket and standing up. "I should call my mother," he says with something that's not quite a grimace. "She'll be expecting me to."</p><p>Feuilly offers him a smile, reaching up to press their hands together. "Good luck. I'll be right here."</p><p>Enjolras nods, squeezing Feuilly's hand before letting go and retreating to his room. </p><p>Feuilly has people he should probably call as well- previous foster parents who he still keeps in contact with, a few friends from past chapters of his life. He doesn't keep in contact with many people from his childhood, and the ones he does extend no further than customary calls and the occasional card, but it's nice to stay connected.</p><p>He's done within half an hour, smiling to himself as he hangs up on the last call. </p><p>Fifty pages and almost an hour later, Feuilly feels concern creep up his spine; Enjolras still hasn't come out of his room. Prior experience has taught him that Enjolras' phonecalls usually only last twenty minutes to half an hour. He's debating whether or not to knock on Enjolras' door when it swings open. </p><p>Enjolras appears, holding his phone in one hand and- he's smiling. Just slightly, but it's there. </p><p>"Good call?" Feuilly asks as Enjolras sits down.</p><p>"A really good call," confirms Enjolras, pulling his knees up and letting his head fall onto Feuilly's shoulder. </p><p>Feuilly smiles, "I'm happy to hear it."</p><p>Enjolras hums in agreement, and Feuilly moves an arm around him, shifting them into a more comfortable position. </p><p>"Happy December 25th," Enjolras says. </p><p>"Happy December 25th."</p><p>The rest of the day is spent on the sofa, re-watching one of their favourite documentaries on Netflix, culminating in a passionate discussion about the lobbying power of big corporations in local governments. </p><p>Courfeyrac turns up once it starts to get dark, grinning from the moment the door opens to reveal him stood there. "Ready to redistribute some resources?" he asks.</p><p>Enjolras laughs. "Always." </p><p>He turns to Feuilly and smiles, "I'll see you tomorrow?"</p><p>Feuills nods. "Yeah, 'course. Stay safe."</p><p>"Of course." </p><p>"I'll see you tomorrow as well, Feuilly!" Courfeyrac interjects, smiling brightly. "You're on shift at seven!" </p><p>Feuilly nods, waving the pair of them off after forcing a pair of gloves into Enjolras' hands. </p><p>With Enjolras gone, the apartment feels quieter. Feuilly is accustomed to, even friendly, with solitude, but after the day spent in Enjolras' presence, he finds himself feeling almost lonely. </p><p>Despite his promise of not working, Feuilly finds himself with little else to do except go over the strike plans for the thousandth time. It's less than a week until the beginning of the strikes, and Feuilly feels the anxiety creeping back up his spine, even though he knows that they're organised and prepared to the highest extent. Even if there were anything left to do, it's not exactly like he'd be able to do it right now anyway. He settles for texting the group WhatsApp, messaging his co-workers and wishing them well. He gets a few messages in response and has a pleasant text-exchange with Marie about the consumerist expectations of the Christmas holiday and inescapable influence of Western religious traditions. </p><p>Enjolras isn't back by the time Feuilly goes to sleep, and it's with a heavy mind that he climbs into bed. </p><p>The past couple of days have provided not only a needed break from work-related things but also time to spend with Enjolras when they're not both focused on various causes. It's been nice, but more than that, it's convinced Feuilly that this is what he desires more of; him and Enjolras, spending time together, reading and watching TV and cooking and laughing and fighting for social justice together. </p><p>Now that the year is coming to a close Feuilly is very aware that their lease is almost due for renewal; they have a couple of months at most to decide whether or not to carry on renting. Even though Enjolras is graduating in the summer, Feuilly doesn't want to think about getting a different roommate, doesn't want to think about sharing a space with someone who isn't Enjolras. For one thing, he's never felt quite as comfortable around anyone else as he feels around Enjolras, and there's no one else he can imagine being such a considerate friend and roommate.</p><p>Of course, if Feuilly does talk to Enjolras about his feelings, and Enjolras doesn't return them... well, that could be a far more complicated situation. Feuilly doesn't think he's imagining the hints in Enjolras' actions towards him that seem to suggest he returns Feuilly's feelings, but up until a few months ago, Feuilly hadn't imagined Enjolras to have any such feelings at all. He's not particularly well versed in Enjolras' romantic tells- by Enjolras' own admission, he's never been in a relationship.</p><p>Which is another worry; even if he does return Feuilly's feelings, there's no guarantee Enjolras will desire an actual relationship with him. Feuilly knows society likes to sort everything into binary categories, and relationships are no different. It's entirely possible that Feuilly has misinterpreted their interactions, viewing them from a flawed lens. He hopes not, but as he lays there with only the sound of his own breathing for company, doubt festers.</p><p>Feuilly thinks back to Courfeyrac's words, thinks back to Enjolras' own words, in the kitchen all those months ago. Even if Enjolras doesn't share his desire for a relationship, would their friendship suffer for it? Feuilly really doesn't think so.</p><p>He questions his own resolve to wait until after the strikes to approach the topic with Enjolras as he lies there, staring at his ceiling. He feels a growing impatience within him; he's not usually such a hesitant person. Feuilly has always approached his problems head on, acting directly and decisively when he needs to sort something out. Waiting to approach Enjolras about his feelings had seemed sensible at first, but now Feuilly wonders if he should just bite the bullet. He's still got a lot on his plate, but compared to a month ago, he's in a much better place mentally. He could talk to Enjolras on New Years, perhaps, just before the start of the strikes, give himself time to truly work out how to approach it...</p><p>Feuilly falls asleep before he can truly finish the thought, dreaming of working next to Enjolras in the warehouse whilst a strike goes on in their apartment.</p><p>His feelings come to head a few days later, at Bahorel's not-a-Christmas party. </p><p>Feuilly can't remember whose idea it was to play Never Have I Ever and he doesn't really care, too content with the happy buzz and utter love for the people around him. </p><p>"Enjolras hasn't taken one drink yet!" Bossuet protests loudly, as the majority of people sat around the circle grudgingly drink in admitting that, yes, they have pulled a sick day due to a hangover. Feuilly toasts his own drink in agreement once he's swallowed down the bitter taste. </p><p>Enjolras just laughs. "Sorry that I'm not exciting enough for you, Bossuet." </p><p>"I have a solution!" Courfeyrac yells, having passed the point of tipsy hours ago. "Never have I ever glued myself to an MP's private vehicle!"</p><p>"It's not even your turn!" Joly objects at the same time as Enjolras yells: "That's definitely targeted!"</p><p>For some reason, this is the funniest thing Feuilly's ever heard and he throws his head back and laughs, nudging Enjolras in the ribs once he's recovered. Enjolras smiles helplessly. "Fine," he grumbles, throwing back his drink with a grimace. </p><p>"Your go, Enj," Feuilly stage-whispers. Enjolras continues smiling at him, as if Feuilly is endlessly amusing. </p><p>"Never have I ever been cisgender," Enjolras says, to multiple groans as half of their friends are forced to drink. Bahorel and Joly cheer, the former crossing the circle to touch her glass to Enjolras'. The resounding 'clink' sends Feuilly into another burst of giggles, vodka and rum almost spilling out his nose. </p><p>Enjolras has that same look, but softer. "You're very giggly tonight," he remarks. </p><p>"I'm just happy," Feuilly says, maybe a touch too defensively. Enjolras squeezes his arm as if in apology and, on impulse, Feuilly takes Enjolras' hand in his own. Enjolras blinks before he relaxes into a smile, intertwining their hands. </p><p>Feuilly can feel himself growing hotter, and this time he's sure it's not just the alcohol. Mostly though, he just feels the same overwhelming happiness as before, sneaking glances at Enjolras when the other man isn't looking. </p><p>"Time to spice things up!" announces Jehan when it gets to his go. "Never have I ever had a crush on anyone in this room." </p><p>Feuilly holds his breath as Enjolras drinks. Enjolras must notice for he turns to Feuilly and toasts to him once he's finished drinking, moving his eyebrows up and down in a way that would be suggestive if it were anyone else, and it sets Feuilly off again. His shoulders are shaking in laughter as Enjolras takes his drink off him and places it safely out of the way.</p><p>"Give it back!" he protests. "I need to drink!"</p><p>Enjolras must not hear him, for he doesn't return Feuilly's glass. Feuilly pouts. He vaguely registers that Courfeyrac is grinning at him from across the circle, but he turns his head into Enjolras' shoulder to hide from it. Enjolras just smiles that same smile at him when Feuilly looks up to see his expression, leaning further into Feuilly so that more of his back touches Feuilly's side. </p><p>Something in Feuilly lights up at the contact, and it is only on a moment's thought that he pulls Enjolras more firmly against him, until Enjolras is sitting in between Feuilly's legs, leant back against his chest. Enjolras gives a startled jerk but lets himself be pulled, settling against Feuilly with a surprised laugh. </p><p>Feuilly is now even more aware of their friends eyes directed towards them. Given their reactions, Feuilly comes to the conclusion that Enjolras' crush on him must have been more ABC myth than a confirmed fact, for how shocked they all look. </p><p>He looks back at Courfeyrac only to find him still grinning. He raises his eyebrows at Feuilly when they make eye contact and Feuilly feels his cheeks heat up. </p><p>Thankfully, no one feels the need to speak out loud what they're thinking, and the game continues much the same as usual. </p><p>Feuilly suspects that his friends' lack of teasing was more out of respect for Enjolras than out of any desire to find out more, for their eyes seem to follow him like a hawk when he goes to find Enjolras on the balcony later that evening. </p><p>He tries valiantly to get the door to open before he realises that it's a push door and not a pull one. He laughs when he finally gets it open, the victory making him smile as he steps out. </p><p>Enjolras turns around at the sound of Feuilly's laugh and Feuilly wastes no time in moving next to him. They're only on the third floor, and the view from Bahorel's apartment isn't spectacular, but Enjolras stares out at it intensely nevertheless. It's night, but the glow from the streetlamps bathes the city below them in light. Feuilly wonders what Enjolras is thinking about as he gazes into the distance, lost in his thoughts as he appears to be. </p><p>"What are you thinking about?" he asks eventually, trying to enunciate clearly. </p><p>The briefest hint of a smile graces Enjolras' face. "A lot of things," he says. "Friendship, mainly. How lucky I am to have you all."</p><p>"We're lucky to have you, too," Feuilly says, attempting to match the sincerity he hears in Enjolras' own voice. </p><p>Enjolras ducks his head and Feuilly nudges him with his elbow. "Hey. It's true."</p><p>Enjolras smiles and shakes his head, stepping closer to Feuilly and linking their arms together. The heat of Enjolras' body next to is a stark contrast to the cold air on the balcony, and something about it emboldens Feuilly.</p><p>"Why did you never ask me out?" he asks. Enjolras stills beside him- maybe Feuilly should clarify. "When you had a crush on me?"</p><p>"I'm sure I've said," Enjolras says after a while, quiet. "I valued your friendship more. I didn't want to lose it." </p><p>Feuilly turns towards him fully, grabbing Enjolras' arm gently. "You wouldn't have." </p><p>"Feuilly..."</p><p>"You wouldn't have lost our friendship," Feuilly insists again, because this is <em>important</em>. "You wouldn't've."</p><p>Enjolras nods, acquiescent. "I believe you."</p><p>"If you still had a crush on me now, would you?"</p><p>"Would I... ask you out?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Enjolras looks down over the railing. "We're closer now," he says eventually, and it doesn't escape Feuilly's notice that it isn't an actual answer. "We already have a relationship that I'd consider... Well, I don't know exactly what I'd consider it, but it'd feel more natural, I suppose, as a starting point for something more romantic in nature."</p><p>"The political connection," Feuilly says knowingly.</p><p>Enjolras smiles. Feuilly wonders if he's also thinking back to their conversation in the kitchen all those months ago. "Yeah."</p><p>"I think I'd say yes."</p><p>Enjolras looks at him. He doesn't say anything, he just looks at Feuilly, considering. "You would?"</p><p>Feuilly tears his gaze away, focuses on the stars above them and the expanse of the city sprawled out below. "Yeah. I feel comfortable around you, and I know we share the same ideals. I like spending time with you, I really respect you, I... like how much closer we've been lately, and I think I'd like to be even closer. I just..." he trails off, shrugging, his throat suddenly dry.</p><p>Enjolras is still looking at him, and for once Feuilly can't read his expression.</p><p>The moment feels almost transcendent and Feuilly is tempted to break it- it would be the work of seconds to pull Enjolras a little closer to him and turn subtly to press their lips together. </p><p>He doesn't realise he's moved forwards until he feels Enjolras take a step back- not enough to unbalance him, but enough to jerk him back to reality.</p><p>"I think," says Enjolras quietly, taking Feuilly's hand and delicately holding it between his own, "it might be a good idea to revisit this conversation when we're sober."</p><p>Feuilly feels the moment break. Enjolras is right, and Feuilly has enough presence of mind to know that he's right, but the rejection stings nevertheless. "You're right," he says, trying to keep his voice level. "We should rejoin the party." </p><p>Enjolras squeezes his hand, pulling him back when Feuilly tries to break away. "We can stay out here a little longer, if you'd like."</p><p>"Okay," Feuilly agrees, clutching Enjolras' hand like a lifeline. <br/>
<br/>
They do stay out a little longer, clasping hands on top of the railing until the cold becomes too harsh for them to ignore and the sound of their friends' inside too cheerful for them to <em>want</em> to ignore. Enjolras smiles at Feuilly, simply, softly, before he disentangles their hands and moves back towards the party. Feuilly sighs just once, flexing his hand as he stares out to the streets below.</p><p>The party passes quickly after that; Feuilly, in an attempt to cheer his spirits, agrees to a beer pong tournament, winning against Bahorel but losing to Bossuet. He's persuaded into trying one of Jehan's absurd cocktail mixers ("For the love of Christ, Prouvaire, how much rum is in this?"), and does a shot (or four) with Grantaire in an attempt to see who can drink the most and still walk in a straight line. </p><p>The answer, evidently, is not Feuilly, for he stumbles and falls after a few steps towards the door. Luckily, soft arms catch him from behind, pulling him towards their owner. Feuilly hums, thankful for his saviour, and leans into their side. </p><p>"Are you okay?" asks Enjolras, as Grantaire lurks over his shoulder. It takes Feuilly a second to focus on their faces. </p><p>"'M good," he slurs, trying to take another step and falling further into Enjolras' arms. Not that he minds, really.</p><p>Enjolras sighs and casts Grantaire a sideways glance. Grantaire shrugs his shoulders, as if to wipe himself of any responsibility for Feuilly's current state. <em>Traitor</em>, Feuilly thinks rather viciously. He tries to put his middle finger up at Grantaire to display this sentiment but he's not sure if he manages it, feeling Enjolras' arms tighten around him. </p><p>"Feuilly, how much did you drink?"</p><p>"No more than him," Feuilly protests, finally managing to right himself and staring at Grantaire accusingly. </p><p>"I'm more used to my drink, my good friend." Grantaire says, taking a swig from the bottle he's holding as if to prove it. </p><p>Enjolras looks almost uncomfortable here, in the midst of two very drunk friends, and it makes Feuilly sad. He hadn't realised how drunk he was getting until he stood up. He certainly didn't intend to get this drunk. "Sorry," he tries to apologise, reaching a hand up to Enjolras' face. Enjolras catches his hand before it makes contact and gently pulls it away. </p><p>"It's alright," he says. </p><p>Enjolras leads him to the couch with Grantaire's help. "I'm going to find Bahorel, watch him for a minute?" he asks. </p><p>Grantaire nods, eyes wide. Feuilly wants to roll his eyes- he thinks he might've done, actually, because Grantaire frowns at him before trying to settle Feuilly more comfortably on the cushions. </p><p>Feuilly doesn't need watching, he thinks stubbornly, least of all by Grantaire. But Enjolras had evidently thought so, which leads Feuilly to wonder just how drunk he must appear. </p><p>When Enjolras returns, Bahorel and Courfeyrac in tow, his suspicions are confirmed. "Yikes," says Courfeyrac, "Feuilllly, my friend, you alright?"</p><p>Feuilly opens his mouth to say, yes, he's fine thanks very much, but as soon as he does, he feels dangerously queasy. </p><p>"Uh oh," says Grantaire, and then Feuilly is on his feet, lurching towards where he thinks he knows the bathroom to be. </p><p>"Try not to get it on the floor!" Bahorel yells after him. </p><p>Feuilly has become very familiar with the toilet bowl by the time he's rejoined by Enjolras. He knows it's Enjolras because Enjolras has a very dignified air about him, and only he could possibly make the act of crouching down next to a vomiting friend on the bathroom floor seem graceful. His hand is a point of warmth on Feuilly's back and one Feuilly tries to focus on as he continues to empty the contents of his stomach. </p><p>Once he's pretty sure that's dealt with he leans his head against the cool surface and groans. Enjolras' hand comes up between his shoulder blades, rubbing gently. </p><p>"Bahorel has made space for us to stay the night," Enjolras speaks for the first time, his voice soft. "A few others are staying as well. Here, drink."</p><p>Feuilly struggles into a sitting position, accepting the water Enjolras offers him and sipping at it slowly. He smiles when he's done, setting the glass down and unable to stop staring at Enjolras in front of him. Suddenly, he's all too ashamed of the state that he's in, frantically wiping his mouth with the back of his jumper sleeve. </p><p>"Did anyone else throw up?" Feuilly asks, after Enjolras hands him a sheet of toilet roll to wipe his face. He feels like, maybe, if he doesn't have to share this shame alone, it may be more bearable. </p><p>"I don't think so," Enjolras says, his hand now resting on Feuilly's knee. "But Jehan did say he wasn't feeling well earlier. I think he's asleep now- you should be too."</p><p>"Mm," Feuilly says, because he'd love nothing more than to fall asleep now. "Where're we sleepin'?"</p><p>"Bahorel has an air mattress, come on," he helps Feuilly up, a steady arm around his waist as he orients himself. </p><p>Enjolras makes Feuilly drink an outrageous amount of water before leading him to Bahorel's room; Jehan is indeed already asleep, sprawled out on Bahorel's bed. There's an airbed to the left side of the room and Enjolras carefully helps Feuilly lie down on it, a strong grip on his arms that Feuilly finds he rather likes.</p><p>If he weren't still drunk, Feuilly thinks he might find the airbed uncomfortable; as it is, he feels himself begin to fall asleep as soon as his body makes contact with its surface. Enjolras manoeuvres a blanket he produced from somewhere until it sits comfortably over Feuilly and Feuilly smiles, reaching out for his hand in thanks. </p><p>"Sorry for throwing up," he says. "Didn't mean to."</p><p>"That's okay," Enjolras replies, fitting their hands together. "Get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow."</p><p>Feuilly yawns. "Sounds good. Love you."</p><p>Enjolras' squeezes his hand once more before letting go. "You too. Now sleep."</p><p>He leaves, sleeping bag in tow, and Feuilly is left in darkness with only Jehan's light snores for company. </p><p>Sleep claims him fast, for which he is grateful; he doesn't want to spend another second thinking about Enjolras' rejection.</p><p>Waking up is an awful ordeal and Feuilly groans before he's even opened his eyes. There's a glass of water next to his head as well as two paracetamol capsules, which Feuilly downs with speed. Neither Jehan nor Bahorel are still asleep on the bed, so Feuilly makes his way into the main room after roughly ten minutes of coming to terms with the fact of his existence. </p><p>He's never been the type that forgets drunken nights, no matter how much he seems to drink (which judging by the pounding in his head and the way his stomach churns, had been a lot) and so it's without pause that the memories of last night come flooding back. He remembers throwing up in Bahorel's bathroom, having to be monitored by Grantaire, the disapproval in Enjolras' own voice, and finally, their conversation on the balcony, earlier on in the night. Feuilly doesn't regret telling Enjolras about his feelings, not exactly- but Enjolras definitely made the right call to wait until they were sober to discuss it further.  </p><p>Jehan, it appears, moved from one sleeping spot to another, for he's snoring on the couch when Feuilly enters the main room. Enjolras and Courfeyrac sit at the kitchen counter, the latter clutching a cup of coffee in his hands like it's the only thing tethering him to reality and the former leaning against the side, lost in thought. Bahorel is nowhere to be seen, though Feuilly can hear the shower running, so he makes an educated guess.</p><p>Feuilly steps over a sleeping Grantaire on his way to them and is greeted by a bright grin from Courfeyrac.</p><p>"Morning, Feuilly. Sleep well?"</p><p>"Fuck off," Feuilly says lightly, though his focus is still on Enjolras. </p><p>Courfeyrac tuts. "Such language. I was about to make you coffee as well."</p><p>Feuilly sighs, sinking down onto one of the kitchen stools and placing his head in his hands. Despite his words, Courfeyrac does indeed set to boiling the kettle, as Enjolras stays standing, unmoving.</p><p>His eyes settle on Feuilly when Courfeyrac places the cup of coffee on the table, the noise apparently having driven him out of his trance. </p><p>"Good morning," he says quietly. </p><p>"Morning," Feuilly says, relief hitting him with the force of a truck when Enjolras smiles slightly. </p><p>He makes pleasant conversation with Courfeyrac over coffee, and Bahorel, too, once she joins them. Jehan and Grantaire are still sleeping like the dead when Enjolras- almost unbearably quiet through the whole morning- asks Feuilly if he's ready to leave. They say their goodbyes, thanking Bahorel gratuitously for hosting and wishing each other well recoveries until they meet again in a few days time for New Year's.</p><p>They get a taxi back. The air isn't exactly tense between them, but it is thick with silence. Enjolras stares at his hands the entire ride, his brow furrowed. Almost comically, Feuilly thinks he'd look like he was reading a particularly inane tweet and getting riled up about it, were it not for the lack of a phone in his hands. </p><p>They enter the apartment still in silence. Feuilly wants to collapse and sleep for another few hours, but Enjolras grabs his arm once they're inside. </p><p>"Feuilly," he says softly, looking into Feuilly's eyes for the first time since last night. "I know you're tired now but do you think we can talk later? We probably should've had this conversation a long time ago, and I know things are busy right now, with the strikes, but..."</p><p>"The party," Feuilly finishes knowingly, as if completing Enjolras' thought for him. </p><p>Enjolras nods, a tiny smile gracing his face. "Yeah. There's some things we should probably talk about."</p><p>And God, one sentence shouldn't be able to stir up so much fear in Feuilly's chest. "Of course," he says, despite the rush in his ears and the pounding in his heart, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."</p><p>Enjolras is already shaking his head before Feuilly has finished speaking. "You didn't," he says. "I still want to talk, though."</p><p>Feuilly nods. </p><p>"I'm going out with Courfeyrac again tonight, but we can talk when I get back?" Enjolras offers, headed straight for the kettle. </p><p>"What time do you get back?"</p><p>"Probably around eleven," Enjolras answers as he retrieves a single mug from the cupboard. "Would that work?"</p><p>Feuilly nods his head and confirms it with Enjolras before he heads into his room, faceplanting on the pillow and trying not to groan too audibly. He's tired and hungover and there's not much time for him to do anything else except succumb to that, closing his eyes as sleep takes him. </p><p>When Feuilly wakes, the apartment is quiet. There's no sign of Enjolras but a note on the table, reminding Feuilly painfully of just a few months before. </p><p>
  <em>Gone to meet Courfeyrac :)</em>
</p><p>He appreciates the attempt, at least. </p><p>Feuilly doesn't get much done in the hours between waking up and Enjolras' return; in any other circumstance, he probably would've resented the waste of time, but as things stand, his mind is focused on one thing and one thing only- the conversation he's going to have with Enjolras. Feuilly supposes it's a good thing, really. A few days ago he'd almost talked himself into approaching it himself, this strange space that they've wandered into together, and what was it Enjolras had said on the balcony? Something about not knowing how to define their relationship. Feuilly sighs in their empty apartment and resigns himself to waiting. </p><p>When the door opens at around half eleven, Feuilly jumps up. "Tea?" he asks before Enjolras is even fully through the door. </p><p>Enjolras smiles, laughing softly as he toes off his shoes. "Yes, please."</p><p>Feuilly fumbles about making the tea whilst he waits for Enjolras. Once he's taken his coat, scarf, and gloves off he joins Feuilly in the kitchen. He doesn't say anything and Feuilly feels a slight relief- it seems they're both hesitant to breach the topic. </p><p>"How was it tonight?" he asks as the kettle boils. </p><p>"Good," Enjolras says. "We didn't run into any trouble and managed to get around a few of the less-visited neighbourhoods. We gave everything out pretty quickly, as usual."</p><p>"That's good," says Feuilly, pouring water into their mugs before adding milk to his coffee and handing the 'solidari-tea' mug to Enjolras. </p><p>They move to the sofa and sit quietly with their respective drinks for a while. Unsurprisingly, Enjolras is the one to break the silence. "What you said on the balcony last night... did you mean it?"</p><p>Feuilly grips his mug a little tighter. "Yeah," he says, because he was drunk last night, but he remembers deciding to say what he did, and he can't be dishonest with Enjolras.  "I mean, I think so."</p><p>Enjolras' lips quirk up. "You think so?"</p><p>Feuilly stares down into his coffee for a long time until answering. "I'm not sure how to explain it," he says. But he knows he has to try. "It's not as if I had these feelings before you told me you used to have a crush on me. Honestly, I can't say for certain that I didn't have feelings for you before that, but if I did, I certainly didn't realise them. But I just couldn't stop thinking about it, and I don't know why it bothered me so much, but..." he trails off and shrugs. "I've been thinking about it a lot, these past few months. I think I would've said yes then, and I would say yes now."</p><p>He doesn't know how he expected to feel after saying the words, but this almost overwhelming sense of calm and contentment definitely wouldn't have been in his top five guesses. </p><p>"Okay," says Enjolras, as if he's considering Feuilly's words very carefully. "Can I just- when you say 'feelings'- do you mean romantic ones?" he asks. </p><p>"I- yeah. I'm pretty sure, at least."</p><p>"Oh," says Enjolras.  </p><p>"I mean, what we have now is amazing, and you have no idea how long I've agonised over trying to work out if my feelings were only a result of finding out about the crush you had on me. I was scared I was projecting," he admits, and it feels good, to say it out loud. Enjolras watches him closely, nodding his head at Feuilly's words. "But as time went on I realised I just... really liked you. In a way that was new but was also completely the same. That's what I was trying to say on the balcony, I think, that our relationship has been different recently- I know you've felt it too- and I've liked it that way."</p><p>"Me too," Enjolras says quietly. "I have felt it. There have been a lot of times I wondered if I should say something, but I didn't want to add to your stress, what with all the organising you've been doing, and the strikes..."</p><p>Feuilly laughs, just slightly. "It's cool- same here, actually. There was already so much going on, you know? You have no idea how badly I've wanted to say something, these past few weeks especially. I even went to Courfeyrac for advice, that's how desperate I was."</p><p>"You talked to Courfeyrac about me?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Oh," Enjolras says again. Then, unbelievably, he smiles. "A lot of things are starting to make sense now."</p><p>Then, before Feuilly has a chance to ask what on earth <em>that</em> means, Enjolras is leaning forward and taking his hand, mug forgotten on the table in front of them. "I've never been in a relationship before, Feuilly," he says, solemn. "I've never felt the need to be in one. Courfeyrac has been telling me I might be demisexual-" Feuilly nods to show he understands the term, "- but beyond that I've always just felt like all a relationship would be in my eyes is a really strong friendship. And we already have that."</p><p>"Yeah," agrees Feuilly, because he may not be on the same page as Enjolras yet, but he agrees with his sentiment. "We do."</p><p>Enjolras smiles. "Yeah," he says softly. "You asked the other night, why I never said anything when I had a crush on you. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to lose our friendship, but there's slightly more to it than that, and it'd be disingenuous of me to pretend otherwise. You mentioned the difference between friendship and romance and I think that's very true for me also- in that, there isn't much of one. Or, at least, not one that conforms to society's expectations of what constitutes a romantic relationship as opposed to a platonic one. I've always been wary because of that, because I know my idea of what a relationship should be is different to a lot of people's."</p><p>"That makes sense," Feuilly says, "you said it'd be like a really strong friendship, right?"</p><p>"Yeah," Enjolras smiles, squeezing Feuilly's hand. "Or at least, built on one. I suppose I don't truly know what romance looks like to me, and I can't make you any promises but... If you want to try and see how our relationship works in a slightly different context, I'd be happy to do so."</p><p>"So... being more than friends?" Feuilly asks, because he thinks he knows what Enjolras is talking about, but he wants to be sure.</p><p>Enjolras hums, and then shakes his head. Feuilly freezes. "No, sorry, I didn't mean-" Enjolras cuts him off, raking the hand not holding Feuilly's through his hair. "I'm not sure I like that expression, is all. More than friends. As if romance is inherently stronger than friendship, or somehow more important than platonic relationships."</p><p>Feuilly smiles. "Yeah. A romantic relationship, then?"</p><p>"A romantic one," Enjolras confirms, squeezing Feuilly's hand. "Whatever that looks like for us."</p><p>Feuilly takes a moment to imagine what it looks like for them; the answer is not much different from the way things are now.</p><p>"Do you like kissing?" Feuilly asks, curious. </p><p>"I don't know; I've never tried it."</p><p>Feuilly tries not to gape. "Never?"</p><p>Enjolras shakes his head. And, huh, Feuilly had known that Enjolras has never dated anyone, but somehow he'd figured Enjolras must have kissed at least one person in his life. He shakes himself, remembering that it's perfectly valid to never have kissed anyone; Enjolras is still young, at twenty-four, and even if he never wanted to kiss anyone, Feuilly wouldn't fault him.</p><p>"Would you be open to it?"</p><p>Enjolras opens his mouth to reply, and then closes it again. "Sure," he says after a moment's deliberation. </p><p>When a moment passes and Enjolras says nothing else except for look at Feuilly expectantly, Feuilly laughs. </p><p>"Now?" he asks. </p><p>Enjolras smiles. "Why not?"</p><p>It turns out Feuilly can't think of a good reason why not. He shuffles closer to Enjolras on the couch, placing his own mug on the table next to Enjolras'. Enjolras doesn't take his eyes off of Feuilly's face as Feuilly moves closer, and maybe Feuilly should have guessed that Enjolras would be as single-minded about this as he is in everything else in life. When Feuilly brings his hand up to Enjolras' cheek gently, Enjolras leans into the touch, his smile widening ever so slightly. Feuilly kneels up slightly, resting his other hand on Enjolras' shoulder as he leans down to press their lips together. </p><p>It's brief; just a press of lips and nothing more before Feuilly pulls away again, staying close enough so that their noses almost touch. Enjolras' hands are resting on Feuilly's arms, and Feuilly can see his smile even from this close. It's Enjolras who leans in next, catching Feuilly by surprise when their lips meet again. It's a little too enthusiastic; too much pressure. Feuilly uses the hand on Enjolras' cheek to nudge him a little further away, coaxes his lips to stay a little longer when Enjolras moves to pull back. </p><p>This time when they stop kissing Enjolras laughs, runs a hand through his hair, before resting his head on Feuilly's shoulder. "I do like kissing," he tells Feuilly, smiling into his collarbone. </p><p>Feuilly laughs and brings his arms to wrap around Enjolras, enjoying for a moment the simple pleasure of their bodies cradled close together.</p><p>They talk more after that, about what a relationship for them would look like, about Enjolras' possible demisexuality, about the timing of their confessions in light of the upcoming strikes. Naturally, their discussion evolves into a conversation about heteronormative gender roles, which in turn evolves into Feuilly once again railing against regressive social politics. Along the way, they discover that neither of them are particularly fond of the term 'boyfriend' so they mutually decide to skip past it, coming up with alternatives for a while until Enjolras tentatively suggests 'partner' and Feuilly agrees.</p><p>They decide to hold of telling their friends until the New Year's gathering. It'd been Enjolras' suggestion, but Feuilly had gone along with it, purely to see the look on their friends' faces. This time they're all gathered at Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta's house, and there's a lot less alcohol involved. When midnight approaches Feuilly shoots Enjolras a conspiratorial look from across the room, and Enjolras comes to stand next to him when the countdown begins.</p><p>On zero, they kiss.</p><p>Enjolras pulls back smiling. Feuilly's pretty sure that he's wearing an equally ridiculous grin, and it's only a few seconds later until there's a screech from across the room, followed by the full weight of Courfeyrac's body colliding into them. Feuilly laughs for what feels like a long time whilst all of their friends crowd around them, cheering and demanding answers. <br/>
<br/>
Once the excitement has died down they spend the rest of the party basking in the glow of their friends as they celebrate the past year and look forward to another one. In less than forty-eight hours time, Feuilly will be standing on a picket line with his co-workers. In less than forty-eight hours time, negotiators from the union will officially approach their employers. In less than forty-eight hours time, they'll be making a stand. </p><p>Feuilly smiles in Enjolras' arms and feels happiness and hope bubble in his chest as he gazes upon the faces of his friends. In less than forty-eight hours time, the real work begins, but for now, Feuilly is content.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. The TUC is the Trade Unions Council and their purpose is basically just to help trade unions do their thing, and they can sometimes offer financial help to strike funds<br/>- 1a. A strike fund is money that's raised to support workers during a strike by helping them cover some of what they'll lose in wages<br/>2. The laws around both using smoke grenades in general and picketing in general are very complicated and have like a thousand caveats, so it's probably not advisable (having said that, a few of the post-picketing marches I've been on have used them, so like most things I guess it's a case of knowing your circumstances and calculating your risks accordingly!)<br/>3. I don't know if the solidari-tea mug actually exists but it should!<br/>4. The documentary is called Merchants of Doubt, I watched it with my flatmate a few months ago and we were both seething, highly recommend if you like rousing call-to-action documentaries!<br/>5. MP stands for Member of Parliament </p><p>Annnnd there we have it! The next chapter takes us to the pickets and also to the end of the story! It sort of functions as an epilogue so it won't be as long as the others (no more monster 10k chapters!) but it should wrap everything up nicely :D </p><p>Thanks again for reading! As always, comments make my day, so feel free to leave one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"What if nothing comes of this?" he asks, too quietly that he thinks Enjolras might not even have heard at first. </p><p>Enjolras manoeuvers them so that they're sitting face to face, pulling Feuilly closer. Feuilly settles his head on Enjolras' shoulder and closes his eyes.</p><p>"That's not possible," Enjolras says, in a quiet tone to match Feuilly. Feuilly lifts his head to respond but- "No, wait, listen to me. Even if- and that's a really big if- your employers don't acknowledge any of the demands of the strike, it won't have been for nothing. You've built a network of empowered workers, you've organised with them for collective means, you've generated so much solidarity from across the city- across the country, even. It's not as if this was ever going to be the end of it all, and I know you know that. And by that logic, all your efforts to build towards it aren't the end either. You're doing the work of building the future, that's not nothing."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, first of all, I know it's been over a month since the last chapter even though I said I'd have it up much sooner, and for that I apologise! This will teach me not to let the epilogue of an otherwise-completed fic go unwritten until the posting stage, no matter how 'easy' I think it will be to write. </p><p>Secondly, thank you so much to everyone who has read this far! This started as a way to occupy myself during lockdown and also reflect on a lot of organising related things that happened in the past year, so thank you for sticking with it and sticking with me! I hope you enjoy the last chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's raining.</p><p>It's not heavy rain, but it's rain all the same, and Feuilly can feel his spirits dampen even as his co-workers start to pull out umbrellas and waterproofs. He scans the small group of them, complete with signs and banners, the megaphone that Marie currently wields, the small sound system that's playing the radio. </p><p>It's not a bad turnout, but it's nowhere near the number of people they had at the start of the week. Feuilly knows that the weather most likely played a large factor, knows that the wind and rain and general cold doesn't make standing outside for hours seem like an enjoyable prospect.</p><p>Feuilly also knows that their warehouse is outside the city limits, on an industrial estate that doesn't get much foot traffic. The digital picket line is of equal, if not greater, importance. Discouraging people to order through their company, redirecting their anger at the company bosses, taking to social media; this is also where the battle is fought, and it will not harm their efforts to be short of a few people on the ground as long as pressure is kept up elsewhere.</p><p>But still- he can't quite quell the disappointment in his chest when he looks out and sees less than half of Monday's attendance. </p><p>"Hey," says a voice behind him, a hand settling on his shoulder. Feuilly turns. </p><p>Enjolras smiles, thrusting an umbrella into Feuilly's hands. Feuilly had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed the rain slowly drenching his hair "Oh," he says, popping it open. "Thanks."</p><p>Enjolras' hand moves from Feuilly's shoulder to his back. "Thank Joly, he made me take a spare."</p><p>A few feet away, Joly catches Feuilly's eye and grins, giving him a big thumbs up. Feuilly manages a smile. </p><p>Enjolras is holding an umbrella as well, his gloved hands curling around the handle as he looks at Feuilly. "It's a good turnout, considering the weather."</p><p>Feuilly doesn't know how Enjolras is able to do that, able to know almost exactly what's on Feuilly's mind without Feuilly having to speak it.</p><p>He laughs in almost agreement. "I know it's irrational to be mad at the weather but fuck, I am, you know?"</p><p>"This was always going to be the worst day, weather-wise and timing-wise," Enjolras says. His voice softens, "it's the middle of the week, numbers will probably pick up tomorrow."</p><p>Feuilly nods, watching as the rain falls heavy on the pavement. "Yeah, I hope so."</p><p>The start of the strikes on Monday had gone as well as Feuilly could've hoped. There'd been a good twenty-five of them stood outside the warehouse, the weather had been nice, and the support from groups outside their own had been larger than Feuilly had dared to imagine.</p><p>Multiple groups from around the city had joined them that first day, the ABC amongst them. Seeing all his friends and even a few lesser-known comrades on the pickets that first day had been an incredible feeling, reminding him how much he values his friends and their support. Feuilly knows the ABC aren't only here for him, but because they genuinely believe in the struggle- he knows they've stood on picket lines before and will probably do so again. This fact only makes him love them more.</p><p>The memory is enough to bring a spark of hope back to his chest, piercing through the gloomy clouds overhead with a ray of sunlight; Monday had been chaotic, and Feuilly had been running ragged all over the place, only stopping briefly to compose tweets about their activities (and once when Joly forced a granola bar into his hand.) As such, he didn't have as much time as he'd wanted to spend talking to everyone, to make introductions and help steer conversations. Nevertheless, by the end of that first day Jehan had been reading picket poetry from a little notebook he carried around, Marie and Combeferre had been in vigorous conversation involving a lot of nodding and gesturing, and Courfeyrac had managed to make friends with just about every single one of Feuilly's coworkers.  </p><p>There are less of his friends here today; Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta had travelled down this morning and stand chatting to Feuilly's co-workers animatedly just a few paces away. </p><p>And of course, Enjolras.</p><p>Introducing Enjolras to his coworkers not as a friend but as a partner had been a weird experience. Feuilly can still picture the small blush on Enjolras' cheek as he'd shook hands with Marc, his other hand firmly within Feuilly's.</p><p>Feuilly wouldn't consider himself closeted at work, per se- he's never tried to hide his sexuality. But, at the same time, he's never really mentioned it, either. He doesn't know if the revelation had been a surprise to any of his co-workers or not, but they'd smiled widely and congratulated the two of them all the same. </p><p>("You sneaky bastard," Marc had said, "you never told us you were in a relationship!"</p><p>"It's, uh, kind of new," Feuilly had said in reply. He didn't know how to explain the intricacies of his and Enjolras' relationship, didn't know how to explain that they've been living together and important to each other for far longer than they've been together officially. For simplicity, he'd said: "We got together on New Year's."</p><p>"That is so cute," Marie had practically cooed in response.)</p><p>Feuilly smiles remembering it, then turns his head to the side, catching Enjolras' eye. "Thanks for coming today," he says. </p><p>"Of course," Enjolras replies. </p><p>Feuilly knows that courses haven't started back up yet, that Enjolras isn't skipping anything important to be here, and he also knows Enjolras would probably be here anyway. Regardless, Feuilly loves him more than he can say for it. </p><p>"Feuilly!" his name is called from further down the line and Feuilly presses Enjolras' hand before he runs to see who's calling him and what they want. He sees Enjolras strike up a conversation with Leon as he leaves. </p><p>The time flies by after that; the weather doesn't improve but they manage to stick it out until 3pm, after which point they gather in a nearby cafe for the post-strike meeting. The meetings are a regular occurence, usually lasting for about an hour after their picketing each day. It's only Feuilly and his co-workers who are left today, Enjolras and the rest of the ABC who'd been there having said goodbye earlier on.</p><p>The cafe is small, and, unfortunately, a chain, but it's close to their warehouse, so they make do. Besides, the baristas there support them and often sneak extra shots into their coffees. (Feuilly had got caught up yesterday, talking to one of the girls behind the bar about the benefits of having union association in the workplace; he'd had to leave so she could serve more customers, but not before they'd exchanged phone numbers.)</p><p>"Any news?" asks Marie once they're settled. </p><p>Feuilly takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head. "Nothing new. As we all know, there was a meeting yesterday between the union and our employers, but they legally can't tell us what was said in it," he explains. "They're not in negotiations yet but the secrecy would suggest that they're headed there. Do we have any word from HR?"</p><p>He directs the question to Paul, who stands, nodding. "Well, I'm not sure if I'd call it a word, really, but what we have received is an e-mail. They're saying they'll look into things, that they want to 'understand' why so many branches are having difficulties and 'work with us' to resolve them. Ended with a paragraph about how they wished it hadn't come to this and we need to 'build back' relations." Paul's voice is verging on sour when he speaks, and his gratuitous use of finger quotations clues Feuilly in as to just how pissed off he is. </p><p>Feuilly tries to hold back a smile at the thought of Paul, of all people, getting so angered by management. "And they haven't agreed to meet with us yet?" he asks.</p><p>Paul shakes his head.</p><p>Feuilly wrinkles his nose. Around him, his co-workers sigh. A buzz of conversation builds, some angry, some frustrated, some invigorated. </p><p>"Does it look like they'll give in before the week is over?" asks a voice from the back of the room. Feuilly can't tell who the voice belongs to, but he assumes it was directed at him, so he answers.</p><p>"They've shown that they're willing to meet with the union, at least. I'd be more surprised if they don't enter into negotiations after this. But the substance of those negotiations is what I'm worried about because it's likely they'll say they want to negotiate and then just double down on not doing anything."</p><p>That invokes another low hum of conversation and Feuilly sighs, taking another sip of his coffee as he looks around at the troubled faces of his co-workers. </p><p>He repeats this to Enjolras later on and Enjolras frowns, ever so slightly before moving to rub his hand between Feuilly's shoulder blades. </p><p>Feuilly presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. "God," he says. Enjolras wraps an arm around him. "God, I knew it wouldn't be easy but I didn't realise how tired I'd be. And it's only Wednesday."</p><p>Enjolras hums. His hand rests on the Feuilly's shoulder and his thumb is rubbing soothing circles just above Feuilly's collarbone.</p><p>"I don't think it would be so bad, it's just all the waiting, not knowing if we're actually having any impact," Feuilly continues, and then pauses- he's reluctant to voice something which feels so much like doubt, but he's sure Enjolras will understand. "What if nothing comes of it?" </p><p>It's said quietly, but Enjolras must hear, for he manoeuvers them so that they're sitting face to face, pulling Feuilly closer. Feuilly settles his head on Enjolras' shoulder and closes his eyes.</p><p>"That's not possible," Enjolras says. His voice is soft but strong, full of conviction. Feuilly lifts his head to respond but- "No, wait, listen to me. Even if- and that's a really big if- your employers don't acknowledge any of the demands of the strike, it won't have been for nothing. You've built a network of empowered workers, you've organised with them for collective means, you've generated so much solidarity from across the city- across the country, even. It's not as if this was ever going to be the end of it all, and I know you know that. And by that logic, all your efforts to build towards it aren't the end either. You're doing the work of building the future, that's not nothing."</p><p>Feuilly is silent for a long minute. Enjolras' hair tickles his cheek where it falls, and Feuilly lets it. "Thank you," he says eventually. "I needed to hear that."</p><p>Enjolras' hands continue their work of rubbing up and down Feuilly's back. He presses his lips to Feuilly's head and Feuilly smiles.</p><p>Just as Feuilly predicted, it doesn't feel like a big shift has happened to their relationship. Sure, some things may be new, but on the whole, Feuilly finds himself content with how natural it feels. It's a relief in more ways than one- given the stress that the week is proving to be, Feuilly doubts he could handle any extra uncertainty.</p><p>Feuilly finds the willpower to disentangle himself from Enjolras eventually, kissing him softly before going to cook up some noodles, ready for the union call at six. Enjolras is working on an article in his room when the time rolls around so Feuilly takes his laptop into the kitchen for the better lighting.</p><p>It's a good meeting, even if, as Feuilly had predicted, they don't get any more information about the talks.</p><p>What they do get instead is a run down of the company's lost profits since the week began. Feuilly would be lying if he said he wasn't secretly a little bit happy to see the hard proof that their strike is having a real impact; it makes him hopeful.</p><p>There'd been attempts to break the strike, on that first day; uncontracted workers pulled in to cover shifts for the week in an attempt to replace their labour. Feuilly and his coworkers had managed to engage a few in conversation, offer them leaflets, explain why the strike was happening and why they shouldn't cross the picket line. Only a handful had returned the next day, and it hadn't been enough; Feuilly remembers cheering along with the rest of them as the notice had come that all deliveries from the warehouse had been suspended until further notice. </p><p>From what he hears on the call, it's a similar story in most of the other branches.</p><p>The strategic timing of their strike seems to have worked. Even with the few who chose to cross the picket and carry on working, even with the temporary help that their employers had hired, there was never going to be a chance that they'd be able to shoulder the entire workload themselves- not during the January sales, at least. </p><p>(Feuilly can't help but wonder what more he could do- could've done- to engage with people, to convince them to join the union, to get them to go on strike, to build that solidarity. He's starting to accept the fact that he might never get an answer, but it doesn't plague him as it had done on that first night.)</p><p>He thinks of Enjolras' words, thinks about how the work doesn't stop here, thinks about how far they've come and how far they have the potential to go. He thinks about the radical potential of the future and finds himself smiling as he hangs up the call.</p><p>Thursday sees him in higher spirits; the weather is better and there are considerably more people who have joined them. Feuilly spots a couple of his friends from the renters union near the end of the picket and waves. He also recognises Elise from the local co-operative bakery, their pink hair a beacon of colour as they hand out what appear to be homemade brownies. Enjolras isn't here today, busy with a meeting somewhere else in the city, but a few other ABC members are scattered about, and Feuilly smiles. It's a good turnout. It will be a good day. </p><p>In two hours the news crew will show up and Feuilly and Marie will make an appearance to talk about the strike and their demands. Feuilly can see Marie from where she's once again engaged in a conversation with Combeferre, only this time Courfeyrac is with them. The three of them laugh loudly, and Marie smiles when she catches Feuilly's eye. Feuilly will have to remember to invite her to an ABC meeting sometime- if Combeferre hasn't already beaten him to it, that is. </p><p>Time passes both slowly and quickly; Feuilly is preoccupied with both keeping their social media up to date and supervising the picket. He finds some time just after lunch to chat to Marc about how his degree is going (short answer: it's going well, when he doesn't have labour organising taking up most of his time) and is on the way back to take some pictures when he bumps into Grantaire. </p><p>"Oh," says Feuilly, knocked off guard both figuratively and literally. "Hey, R. I didn't know you were coming today."</p><p>Grantaire shrugs. "I was in the area," he says, grinning. </p><p>Feuilly knows this is a lie, because there is approximately nothing 'in the area' of interest to anyone who doesn't travel here for work. He lets it slide. </p><p>Grantaire's presence doesn't come as a surprise as such, it's just... Feuilly isn't quite sure where they stand, given... well. Maybe it's disingenuous of him to assume, but he hasn't spoken to Grantaire since Bahorel's not-a-Christmas party, and Grantaire had been neither on the pickets nor in the Musain on Monday. It doesn't exactly take a genius to understand why. Feuilly thought he was maybe doing them all a favour by not mentioning the huge elephant in the room, but maybe he thought wrong. </p><p>"How are you?" Feuilly asks, after a beat too long.</p><p>Grantaire smiles at him. "Splendid. And you? Not running yourself too ragged, I hope?"</p><p>Feuilly laughs, "not quite," he pauses, then decides, fuck it, "hey, R, listen, I hope me and-"</p><p>Grantaire holds up a hand to stop him. "Ah- Buh buh buh buh buh."</p><p>Feuilly blinks. "I-"</p><p>"Uh uh."</p><p>"Grantaire-"</p><p>"Feuilly."</p><p>"I just-"</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>Feuilly gapes. "You don't even know what I'm going to say!"</p><p>"Ah, but you sounded dangerously close to talking about an emotion, and I thought it best for us both if I were to stop you right there, as I have never experienced an emotion in my life and would surely have had trouble following the conversation. I have spared you the embarrassment of talking to someone who does not understand a word of which you're saying; you're welcome."</p><p>Grantaire is still smiling. There's a challenge in his expression, a challenge which says '<em>I could do this all day',</em> and Feuilly knows it's true, knows that Grantaire can bullshit for all he's worth.</p><p>Feuilly sighs. "Fine," he says- maybe the elephant is better off left unacknowledged after all. But still, he can't quite stop himself from making sure. "We're good?"</p><p>Grantaire rolls his eyes but grins once he realises he's won, putting an arm around Feuilly's shoulders. "Yeah, 'course we're good. You gonna introduce me to your co-workers?" </p><p>Feuilly smiles, placing an arm around Grantaire in turn as they walk over to where the rest of Feuilly's co-workers are, stood with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and the small group from the renters union. Feuilly introduces Grantaire and watches fondly as his friends' converse, only stepping away from the conversation when his phone beeps, reminding him to update the union's social media.</p><p>The news crew arrive an hour after lunch; there's a man with a camera and another man with a microphone. The same radio presenter Feuilly recognises from before waves over to him cheerfully and Feuilly makes his way over after double checking his 'picket supervisor' sash is on straight. </p><p>Being interviewed again is strange; there's a camera this time but he isn't meant to look at it or acknowledge it, only the presenter, and neither is Marie. The two of them stand, strategically placed so that the picket line is visible behind them and the cheers of their coworkers can be heard in the background. </p><p>The questions are mainly the same as the ones Feuilly has been asked before, with less conversation in between answers. He lets Marie take the lead, barely containing his grin at her passioned words. Feuilly himself details their demands and what they hope the outcomes of the strike will be, as well as pleading with viewers to take to social media in support. All in all, he feels like it goes well and he's still riding the buzz from it all throughout the post-strike meeting. His good mood is increased further when Paul gives his update from their employers, reading out the latest e-mail from his laptop screen. It's brilliant news, received with cheers from everyone at the meeting. Feuilly practically skips all the way home- such a drastic improvement from this time yesterday that he's tempted to laugh.</p><p>Enjolras is there when Feuilly gets in, sat on the sofa with his laptop in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks up when Feuilly enters and smiles. </p><p>"Hey," Feuilly says before Enjolras has a chance to, toeing off his shoes at the door. "How was your day?"</p><p>Enjolras groans and lets his head fall back against the sofa. Feuilly laughs, bouncing down next to him. </p><p>"That bad?"</p><p>"Not bad, just... frustrating. We were supposed to be looking at ways to raise court costs for those arrests last Summer but it just evolved into a debate about policy. I would much rather have been with you today."</p><p>Feuilly smiles, because he knows, because Enjolras had told him so that morning.</p><p>"I saw you on the news, though," Enjolras says, brightening. "You were amazing."</p><p>Feuilly's smile only grows. He pulls his feet up on to the sofa and shuffles until he's leant on Enjolras' side, chin hooked over Enjolras' shoulder. Enjolras has a word document open and he must be continuing the work from earlier, judging by all the legalese. </p><p>"Wanna hear something really great?" Feuilly asks, unable to contain himself any longer, the small victory still buzzing inside him.</p><p>Enjolras' fingers hover over the keyboard. "Always," he says, turning his head to look at Feuilly as much as he's able. Feuilly grins and sits up so that he's facing Enjolras, legs crossed beneath him. </p><p>"So, in our meeting today, Paul got an e-mail from upper management. A lot of bullshit about needing to move forward, you know, almost exactly the same as the one yesterday," Enjolras nods, "except, this time, they also asked to meet with us. With me, specifically, as the union representative for our branch."</p><p>Enjolras sits up. He stares at Feuilly for a few seconds before a grin takes over his face, pulling Feuilly forward despite the laptop between them. "That's amazing," he breathes. </p><p>Feuilly chuckles, hugging Enjolras back. "Yeah," he agrees. "I mean, they haven't agreed to anything yet, and a lot of what they can do will depend on what the company as a whole decides to do, which is in the hands of the union negotiators, but..."</p><p>"It's still a huge step forward," Enjolras says. </p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, it is."</p><p>He's grinning when they draw apart and Feuilly presses a kiss against Enjolras' cheek before he gets up to make coffee. Later, he'll settle back down against Enjolras with his own laptop and they'll sit in silence together whilst they complete their respective tasks, but for now Feuilly waits for the kettle to boil and watches Enjolras type away at his keyboard with a small smile on his face. </p><p>The last day of the strike is almost as busy as the first, if not more so. Almost all of Feuilly's co-workers are here, along with a smattering of other trade unions that have come along to show their support. Of course, the ABC is out in full force as well, chatting politely with everyone around them. Feuilly can't help but feel the swell in his heart as he looks at the scene before him. </p><p>His meeting with the employers is later in the evening and he maintains a low grade anxiety about it throughout the day, nerves making his stomach churn at regular intervals. The smiling faces of his friends and co-workers is the only thing that seems to alleviate it, and Feuilly spends as much time as possible soaking in their laughter.</p><p>The day passes by in a blur, as busy days are wont to do; Feuilly leads some chants around lunch, a burst of energy which seemed to multiply with every voice that joins in. He makes space in the afternoon for the other unions to address them; representatives are called out and they speak of support and solidarity, of taking back the power and lifting one another up. The atmosphere is lively and loud, and for once the weather is working in their favour. Feuilly smiles as he gets out his phone to take a picture- not for social media this time, but for himself, to capture and remember this moment. </p><p>"Right," Feuilly shouts over the noise once the last speech has been given- Courfeyrac, on behalf of the ABC. "As this is the last day of the strike we want to finish with a bang. If you could all pack up and follow me please, we'll be marching down to the company's regional office." </p><p>He grins as everyone packs up the placards and flyers and speakers. Feuilly grabs a megaphone out of Bahorel's hands as she passes and instructs her to hand the other to Marie, who takes it with a smile. </p><p>The walk to the city centre from the warehouse is about fifteen minutes, but it feels like almost no time at all until they're standing beneath a fancy office building, a few streets away from the high street. They stay on the pavement for most of the way, only veering onto the road to lead them into the city centre. Feuilly switches between call and response chants and simple repeated phrases, unable to contain his grin when the modest crowd shouts them back. </p><p>For a brief period during their march, Enjolras is beside Feuilly, and Feuilly uses the hand not holding the megaphone to grab Enjolras' hand, swinging it lightly as he walks. He raises their joined fists in the air during one particularly powerful chant and Enjolras smiles at him. He carries on smiling long after Feuilly has let go. </p><p>At the office building, Feuilly leads a few more chants before he lays the megaphone to the side. There's a few group pictures taken by Leon, a few conversations with curious shoppers, a few more chants. Feuilly is well aware that this part of the strike is more for them than it is anything else, a high-energy way to end the week, solidifying the networks and connections they've built, the collective work they've done that's led them to this moment. He isn't expecting a march or some chants to scare their employers into action, but his co-workers are energised, and Feuilly is satisfied. </p><p>They go to the Musain for their post-strike meeting this time, since it's closer to the city centre. Feuilly gives a heartful thanks to the other trade unions and those that are leaving before the meeting, beyond grateful for their support.</p><p>A few of the ABC also accompany them to the meeting, Enjolras included. He sits in the back, between Joly and Paul, and Feuilly has to bite his cheek to stop his grin at the sight.</p><p>Feuilly runs down the agenda points quickly; negotiations between the union and their employers are confirmed as being officially underway, as of a couple of hours ago. A cheer goes up at that and it's another five minutes until the noise dies back down to a manageable level. Feuilly relays notice of his own meeting with the regional officer later that evening, to a more modest reception. </p><p>"So I'm guessing we'll at least get a little bit of an idea of where they are in the process, how many of our demands they're addressing, or, at least, how many they're considering. I don't know how much will come of it but I think we can all agree that it's promising we're at this stage already."</p><p>A few murmurs of agreement; most of them that have continued into this meeting are the supporters, the ones who've been involved in the organising work. Feuilly doesn't doubt for a second that the people in this room would go on strike a second time if it meant getting closer to achieving their demands. It's those outside of this room that he's worried about. Technically they wouldn't need to ballot again, if they strike within six months of the first one- it's not something he really wants to be necessary, but it's an option. He takes a deep breath. Hopefully it won't come to that. </p><p>Feuilly thinks about Enjolras' words from the other night and feels inspiration strike.</p><p>"I don't know what kind of workplace we'll be returning to on Monday, but I do know that we'll carry the solidarity of this last week with us. No matter what happens, no matter the result of the negotiations, we've created change during this past week- these last few months, even. We've developed connections and networks, we've experienced support from those around us, our communities. We'll continue this fight in whatever form it takes next and, most importantly, we'll do so together."</p><p>There's a cheer from somewhere at the back of the room- Feuilly thinks it could be Bahorel but he's not sure. Either way, it makes him smile. Then, more cheers, and a scattering of applause. Feuilly ducks his head to hide the blush on his cheeks, dropping back down into his seat. </p><p>Marc takes the stage next, then Marie, then, surprisingly, Paul. Feuilly feels a strange hope in his chest as Paul thanks them all for their conduct the past week, expressing how he had his doubts, but, that, 'actually, a strike may not have been a bad idea.' That line earns him a few laughs, Feuilly amongst them. </p><p>The atmosphere remains jovial as people start to leave; Feuilly hugs almost everyone goodbye, until only a few of them remain. Paul is preparing his papers and files for the upcoming meeting and Feuilly is trying to record his thoughts on a piece of paper, half in an attempt to calm his nerves, and half to document the events of the day. A few of his co-workers order drinks from the bar downstairs but Feuilly rejects Marc's offer to buy him a pint; he needs a clear head for the meeting. </p><p>It's around five minutes later when Courfeyrac joins him at the table. "Hey," he says, straddling the seat next to Feuilly, his arms resting on the back. "Great day, huh?"</p><p>Feuilly nods, smiling once more. "Great day," he affirms. "Is Enj still about?" He meant to catch Enjolras before he left- not to seek out reassurances exactly, but because he values Enjolras' insight. (And it's a little bit of the reassurance thing too, if Feuilly is being honest with himself.)</p><p>Courfeyrac beams. "He is. Him and 'Ferre just went to get drinks."</p><p>Feuilly nods.</p><p>"Speaking of... how's that going?"</p><p>Feuilly frowns. "Huh?"</p><p>"You and Enjolras. How's it going?"</p><p>"Oh," says Feuilly. "Oh, yeah, it's..." he pauses, trying to think of a suitable word for what exactly it is. It's nice, is what it is. It's <em>nice</em> and <em>comfortable</em> and <em>natural </em>and<em>-</em></p><p>Courfeyrac's grin only widens as Feuilly's silence continues. "Enjolras said it felt right, when I asked him. If that's any help."</p><p>Feuilly ducks his head. Of course Enjolras would say that. "Yeah, it does." </p><p>Courfeyrac leans back, as if satisfied, and it's that moment that Enjolras and Combeferre arrive with drinks. Enjolras takes the seat on Feuilly's other side and hands him a glass. "Just lemonade," he assures, "I know your meeting is in an hour."</p><p>Feuilly's stomach flips at the reminder, but he smiles all the same. "Thanks," he says, resisting the urge to do something stupid, like take Enjolras' hand and hold it to his chest, or reach across and kiss him. He'd happily do it were they at home, but both of them have reasonable limits surrounding PDA and Feuilly manages to restrain himself, at least for the time being. Enjolras settles the issue for him by scooting immeasurably closer and letting his hand rest on Feuilly's knee. </p><p>Then there really is nothing to do but wait. Feuilly sips his drink and jots some talking points down on paper so he has a better chance of remembering them later. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stand to leave once they've finished their drinks, wishing Feuilly well and parting with fierce hugs. Soon it's just him, Enjolras, Marc, and Paul left in the upper room of the Musain.</p><p>Enjolras and Marc are engaged in a conversation about corporate advertising, and Feuilly really wishes he could focus, because ordinarily he'd jump at the chance to contribute to such a discussion. He knows that he's not doing himself any favours by checking his phone for the time every two minutes, but he can't seem to help it. Enjolras' hand finds his own after about ten minutes of this, and it helps Feuilly settle, even if he's still jittery.</p><p>When the time finally comes for them to leave, Marc wraps Feuilly in a hug, clapping him on the back and speaking words of encouragement into his ear. Feuilly laughs and thanks him, and then turns to Enjolras. </p><p>Enjolras smiles and steps forward to clasp Feuilly's hands in his own. "You're going to be great," he tells Feuilly sincerely. "You know what you're talking about, you know more than anybody how to convince people, you know exactly what to say."</p><p>Feuilly nods, gripping Enjolras' hands tighter. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I do."</p><p>Leaning forward, Enjolras presses a quick kiss to Feuilly's cheek. "I'll see you later."</p><p>Feuilly's own grin is bright and wide. "Yeah. See you later."</p><p>Enjolras squeezes his hands one last time. "Good luck," he says, and turns to leave. </p><p>Feuilly watches him go and then turns to Paul, in the process of gathering his things up on the table. </p><p>"Ready?" Paul asks.</p><p>Feuilly laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Sure," he breathes out for a long second. "Let's do this."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Feuilly leaves the meeting in a daze. Part of him is unable to process what just happened and the other part is still inside the meeting, reeling from the strange act of finally assigning faces to the people they've been taking a stand against.</p><p>"This is good," Paul tells him once they're outside. "It's not everything we wanted, but it's good." </p><p>Feuilly feels himself nod, as if on autopilot. "Yeah," he agrees. </p><p>Paul claps Feuilly on the shoulder; the small gesture shaking Feuilly out of his reverie. "See you on Monday?"</p><p>"See you on Monday."</p><p>Paul walks off towards his bus stop and Feuilly watches his retreating figure for a moment before heading the opposite direction. He'd left his bike at the Musain this morning, so it's only a short time until he's home. He pauses behind the door to his and Enjolras' flat, letting his head rest on the wood for a second before he turns the key in the lock. </p><p>Enjolras must have heard him enter, for he's just coming out of his room when Feuilly steps inside. </p><p>"Hey," Enjolras says, "how'd it go?"</p><p>There's something cooking in the oven, Feuilly can hear the low hum of it. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until just now.</p><p>"Feuilly?"</p><p>Feuilly opens his mouth to answer, but stops. For reasons he can't explain, he feels frighteningly close to tears. It doesn't make sense- as Paul said, the meeting had gone well, better than Feuilly had expected, even, but he feels so tired all of a sudden, and his eyes sting, and he can't even articulate <em>why</em>, and-</p><p>Enjolras is by his side in an instant, his hand on Feuilly's arm, his eyes full of such a deep concern that it makes Feuilly ache. Feuilly closes his eyes, and to his utter mortification, feels a tear roll down his cheek. A second later, Enjolras' thumb wipes it away, before cupping Feuilly's face, drawing him closer. </p><p>Feuilly lets himself be held. He drops his head to Enjolras' shoulder and inhales his scent; it's comforting, to simply have Enjolras' arms around him, to be held so closely and securely. </p><p>"It's good news," he manages to sniffle out after a few minutes have passed, not wanting Enjolras to fear the worst. "Not great news, but good news. We- they're actually going to- God, I'm sorry, I'm such a mess, I-"</p><p>Feuilly feels the press of Enjolras' lips to his head. "Hey," he says softly, "it's fine. I get it."</p><p>And that's the thing- he probably does. Feuilly sighs, closing his eyes against Enjolras' shoulder, keeping him close just a little longer before he pulls away. </p><p>Enjolras smiles at him, almost questioningly. Feuilly smiles back, and it soon turns into a grin that he finds himself struggling to contain. "Oh god," he says, then laughs. "Oh my God."</p><p>Enjolras raises his eyebrows and Feuilly just laughs and shakes his head. He'd been crying and now he finds himself struggling not to laugh, and Enjolras must think he's lost the plot, but Feuilly- Feuilly doesn't even know where to begin, the tension from the day in general and the week in general and the past few <em>months</em> in general, for that matter, seeming to bleed out of him all at once.</p><p>"There's still stuff to do, obviously, and we haven't won just yet, and the national negotiations are still ongoing, but," he pauses, takes a breath, smiles, "but they're giving our branch more hiring powers, beginning next week. To take on two new employees, as a starting point; it's not much, and obviously we need to push for more, and push for fairer contracts, too, but it- it's a start, and it'll also effect how they work out the rota, so there'll be fairer hours, hopefully. They won't admit it but it's basically a first step towards transparency- the way HR works currently will need to be rethought to make it branch-specific which means we should get a much more accessible route to management."</p><p>Enjolras smiles at him. "That's amazing," he says. </p><p>Feuilly nods, unable to stop now that he's started. "They didn't address the pay gap issue, no matter how many times I brought it up- apparently it's something the union negotiators are lobbying heavily for as well, and I don't know how optimistic I am about them succeeding, but it's part of the conversation now, at least. And obviously there's still such a long way to go even if they do increase permanent employment; the problems are only exacerbated on a national scale and there's no telling if we'll see similar successes at other branches, but-" Feuilly shrugs. </p><p>"It's something to feel hopeful about," Enjolras says. </p><p>Feuilly nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, definitely. I think I'm a little overwhelmed with it, to be honest."</p><p>He is. He doesn't know why; maybe because it feels like they're actually getting somewhere, finally, and it's not- it's not everything, it may only be a step in the right direction, there is still an insurmountable amount of work to be done, Feuilly knows, but-</p><p>It's something. It proves it can be done, that collective action can work, that as long as they keep trying, keep fighting- anything is possible.</p><p>He's exhausted. </p><p>Exhausted, and happy, and conflicted about whether he should be happy or not, and exhausted, and so full of adrenalin that he feels like he could burst, and-</p><p>And hungry, if the growling of his stomach is anything to go by.</p><p>Enjolras chuckles, his hand still resting on Feuilly's arm. "Are you hungry?"</p><p>"Definitely," Feuilly admits. "What are you cooking?"</p><p>"Lasagna. I tried that cheese substitute Jehan was talking about, so we'll see how it turns out. It should be ready in ten minutes."</p><p>Feuilly takes a quick shower in the time it takes for the lasagna to finish cooking, and they eat together at the kitchen table. Enjolras isn't a great cook- neither of them are- but they get by. The lasagna is good, even if the 'cheese' isn't quite the same.</p><p>Feuilly does the washing up once they've finished and hops on twitter afterwards to catch up with the news surrounding the strikes. </p><p>The union negotiations are still ongoing, so Feuilly can't make anything public, but he does call a few of his co-workers who are asking questions after Paul's brief recap in their WhatsApp chat. The reception is overwhelmingly positive and Feuilly can almost hear the smiles in their voices. Marc had been so enthusiastic he's already arranged a celebratory trip to the pub tomorrow; Feuilly finds himself unable to decline. He reads the texts he gets congratulating him on the meeting, the texts that are celebratory whilst also acknowledging the work left to do, the texts that simply contain a string of emojis and gifs and make him feel like his chest could burst with all the emotion he's feeling.</p><p>His life has been so crazy for the past few months, and the culmination of the past week makes Feuilly wonder how he's going to be able to walk into the warehouse on Monday as if nothing's changed, when, in reality, it feels as though almost everything has. </p><p>"Hey," Feuilly says as Enjolras joins him on the couch, still clutching his phone to his chest with an unwipeable grin on his face. "Sleep with me, tonight?" He doesn't bother clarifying; he knows Enjolras won't take it for more than it is. </p><p>"Sure," Enjolras says, smiling back.</p><p>They talked about it that very first night, but have yet to actually share a bed. Feuilly knows it's because they've both been busy, and it's best not to rush these things, but he really doesn't want to leave the comfort of Enjolras' presence any time soon, and so he asks. </p><p>Enjolras' bed is bigger, so they end up there, working out how to lie so that they're both comfortable. Feuilly has an arm around Enjolras, one hand resting on his soft stomach whilst the other is tucked beneath his head. Enjolras' head fits into the curve of Feuilly's neck, his back to Feuilly's front. Like this, Feuilly can feel the movement as Enjolras breathes in and out, and he smiles. He'll probably have to move away to actually sleep because Enjolras' body is warm and his hair tickles Feuilly's chin, but for now, it's perfect.</p><p>Feuilly presses a kiss to Enjolras' ear and Enjolras' whole body shivers in response. Feuilly chuckles, prompting Enjolras to move his head just enough for Feuilly to get the impression that Enjolras is looking at him. </p><p>"Tickles," Enjolras breathes as Feuilly does it again. </p><p>"Well, your hair tickles me, so now we're even."</p><p>Enjolras huffs a laugh. "You wanted to lie this way," he says. </p><p>Feuilly hums, because it's true. "Well, I'm taller."</p><p>"You are <em>not</em>."</p><p>There's a quiet lull. Feuilly has almost convinced himself that he will be able to fall asleep like this after all, when Enjolras speaks. </p><p>"Feuilly?"</p><p>"Mmm?"</p><p>"I'm really proud of you, you know? I know how hard it's been, and I know that it hasn't been a single-handed effort on your part, but that's even more amazing. Everything you've done has been so inspiring, and I say that sincerely, because you've shown that there is a reason why we fight so hard for change. I know it hasn't been a smooth ride and there's still a long way to go but what you've accomplished so far is truly remarkable and I'm extremely proud to be your friend, and your partner."</p><p>And Feuilly- Feuilly doesn't know how to respond. His chest is heavy with emotion, but unlike earlier, he can clearly identify the source of it: an almost overwhelming love for the man in his arms. "Turn around?" he asks, for this is important, and he wants to look at Enjolras. </p><p>Enjolras does so; it only requires a little bit of shifting until they're face to face. Enjolras' eyes shine with sincerity and Feuilly finds his hands under the covers, taking them within his own and squeezing. "You do the same for me, you know?" he speaks into the space between them. "You, and the ABC, and my co-workers- you all help me to see that a better world is actually possible, and not only possible, but worth fighting for, too. I hope you know how much that means to me."</p><p>Enjolras leans forward just far enough to press his lips to Feuilly's knuckles, where their hands lay clasped between them. "I do," he says softly. </p><p>Feuilly smiles, moving closer until their foreheads touch before kissing Enjolras softly. </p><p>On Monday, Feuilly will go to work, and it will still be chaotic for a while, because they don't have a new rota just yet. He'll start university again when term picks up and juggle his responsibilities there with his responsibilities at work. He'll continue to organise both within the workplace and outside of it, with the ABC. He'll continue to build community and drink with his friends and destroy fascist graffiti and make zines and engage in direct action, and he'll do it all with a network of amazing people beside him.</p><p>He will come home and talk to Enjolras and tease him about his weird habits, and they'll stay up late into the night talking about theories of social change and the history of uprising in whichever country Feuilly is learning about that week. They'll kiss, occasionally, and share ideas and ideals and drink hot drinks whilst watching documentaries on Netflix.</p><p>The world will continue to be as it is; cold, and cruel sometimes, but with the potential to be happy. Always the potential to be happier, to be better. Feuilly will continue that work, the work of building the future, with people who believe just as strongly as he does that such a feat is achievable.</p><p>He'll do it all, and he knows that wherever he is, Enjolras will be right beside him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1) So picketing rules are complicated as fuck but basically from what I know and what I've researched there isn't a limit to the number of people that can be on a picket line in support- however, the police have the power to stop a ''mass picket'' (defined as more than 6 people) if they think there's a threat to property or public disorder. Because Feuilly's workplace is out of the way and also officially closed after the second day of strikes I figured they probably wouldn't run into much trouble (and also I write the story so I can do what I want and what I want is to say fuck the tory government and their regressive anti-union laws)<br/>2) Similarly, whilst I've tried to be as realistic as possible within the realms of the story, I'm not an expert on picketing and my experience is limited, so if you're reading this and thinking 'that is just wrong on all counts' feel free to let me know! (For anyone who is interested, <a href="https://www.ucu.org.uk/media/1132/Branch-picket-guidance/pdf/ucu_picketing-guidance1.pdf#:~:text=on%20Picketing%2C%20which%20is%20not%20in%20itself%20legally,or%20exit%20should%20not%20exceed%20six%20%28www.gov.uk%2Fgovernment%2Fpublications%2Fcode-of-practice-picketing%29.%201.8.">this is the UCU guide to picketing</a> which I referred to as a guide because it's what I'm familiar with!)</p><p>Third, if you're reading this, thank you so much for sticking with this story to the last chapter! It's been both a labour of love and a love letter to organising for me, and I hope you've enjoyed it! I can't quite believe it's now finished and that the self-indulgent Enjolras/Feuilly fic I started writing at the start of lockdown evolved into a 45k monster that I actually had to do research for. Needless to say, kudos/comments make my day and if you wanted to leave any I would be super happy! :D</p><p>Lastly, thanks so much for reading! You can find me on tumblr at @thelawsofdaylight where I am happy to talk about the glorious ship that is Feuilly/trade unions all day long :)</p>
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